I sighd her sighes, and wailed for her woe:
Yet swamme in joy such love in her was seene.
Thus while the effect most bitter was to mee,
And nothing than that cause more sweet could be,
I had beene vext, if vext I had not beene.
Out Traytour absence dar’st thou counsell mee
From my deare Captainnesse to runne away,
Because in brave arraye here marcheth shee
That to winne mee oft showes a present paye.
Is Faith so weake, or is such force in thee?