XLIII
But welcome now my Lord, in wele or woe,
Whose presence I have lackt too long a day;
And fie on Fortune mine avowed foe,[°]
Whose wrathful wreakes them selves doe now alay.
And for these wrongs shall treble penaunce pay
Of treble good: good growes of evils priefe.[°]
The chearelesse man, whom sorrow did dismay,
Had no delight to treaten of his griefe;