It makes the fruites of loue oftsoone[°] be rype,
And pleasure pluckt too tymelie from the stemme[°]
To dye ere it hath seene Jerusalem[°].
O Gods! that euer anie thing so[°] sweete,
So suddenlie should fade awaie[°], and fleete!
Hir armes are spread, and I am all unarm'd[°],
Lyke one with Ouid's cursed hemlocke charm'd[°];
So are my Limms unwealdlie for the fight[°]
That spend their strength in thought of hir[°] delight.
What shall I doe to shewe my self a man?