Alike to my flock and thine;
For, alas! at home I have a sire,
A stepdame eke, as hot as fire,
That duly adays counts mine.
THO. Nay, but thy seeing will not serve,
My sheep for that may chance to swerve,
And fall into some mischief:
For sithens is but the third morrow
That I chanc'd to fall asleep with sorrow,
And waked again with grief;