My dedely wo, my paynfull heuynes;
And if ye lyst to know the cause why so,
Open myne hart, beholde my mynde expres:
I wold ye coud! then shuld ye se, mastres, 40
How there nys thynge that I couet so fayne
As to enbrace you in myne armys twayne.
Nothynge yerthly to me more desyrous
Than to beholde youre bewteouse countenaunce:
But, hatefull absens, to me so enuyous,
Though thou withdraw me from her by long dystaunce,