.The compleynt of the man.
Redresse of sorow O Citherea
That witħ the stremys of thy playsaunt hete
Gladest the mounte of al Cirrea
Where thou hast chosen thy paleys and sete
Whos bright beames ben wesshen and wete
In the ryuer of Elycon the welle
Haue now pyte of that I shal you telle
And not desdayne ye of your benygnyte
My mortal woo O lady myn goddesse
Of grace and bounte & mercyful pyte
Benygnely to helpe and to redresse
And thaugħ so be I can not wel expresse
The greuous harmes that I fele in my herte
Haue neuer yet the lesse mercy of my smerte
This is to sayne O cler heuenes light
That next the sonne sercled han your spere
Sitħ ye me hurte witħ your dredful myght
By influence of your beames clere
And that I by your seruyse now so dere
As ye me brought in to this maladye
Be ye gracyous and shape ye remedye
For in you hoolly lietħ help of al this caas
And knowe best my sorow and al my peyne
For drede of detħ, how I ne dar allas
To aren mercy ones, ne me compleyne
Now witħ your fyre her hert so constrayne
Witħ oute more, or I deye atte leste
That she may witte what is my request
How I no thyng in al this world desire
But for to serur fully to myn ende
That goodly freshe so womanly of chere
Witħout chaunge whyle I haue lyf & mynde
And that ye wold suche grace sende
Of my seruyse that she not disdeyne
Sithen her to serue I may not me restreyne
And sitħ that hope me hatħ yeue hardynes
To loue her best and neuer to repente
Whylis that I lyue witħ al my besynes
To drede & serue, thaugħ daunger neuer assente
And here vpon ye knowe myn entente
How I haue vowed fully in myn mynde
To ben her man, thaugħ I no mercy fynde
For in my hert emprynted is so sore
Her shap her forme & al her semelynes
Her porte her chere, her godenes more & more
Her womanhed and eke her gentiles
Her troutħ, her faitħ and her kyndnes
Witħ alle vertues eche set in her degre
Ther is no lack, sauyng only of pyte
Her sad demenyng of wyl not variable
Of loke benygne, and rote of al plesance
And exemplayre to alle that wyl be stable
Discrete prudent of wisedom suffisance
Mirrour of witte ground of gouernance
A world of beaute compassed in her face
Whos persant loke doth thurgħ my hert race