And oft he lets his canker-worms light
Upon my branches, to work me more spite;
And oft his hoary locks down doth cast,
Wherewith my fresh flow'rets be defast:
For this, and many more such outrage,
Craving your goodlyhead to assuage
The rancorous rigour of his might;
Nought ask I, but only to hold my right;
Submitting me to your good sufferance,
And praying to be guarded from grievance.'