The which the God of loue hath on me layd,
And damned to endure this direfull smart,
For penaunce of my proud and hard rebellious hart.
In prime of youthly yeares, when first the flowre xx
Of beauty gan to bud, and bloosme delight,
And nature me endu’d with plenteous dowre,
Of all her gifts, that pleasde each liuing sight,
I was belou’d of many a gentle Knight,
And sude and sought with all the seruice dew:
Full many a one for me deepe groand and sight,