"A thousand siths I curse that careful hour
Wherein I long'd the neighbour town to see,
And eke ten thousand siths I bless the stoure
Wherein I saw so fair a sight as she:
Yet all for naught: such sight hath bred my bane.
Ah, God! that love should breed both joy and pain!
"It is not Hobbinol[2] wherefore I plain,
Albe my love he seek with daily suit;
His clownish gifts and court'sies I disdain,
His kids, his cracknels, and his early fruit.