A thousand times; I curse these idle rhymes,
Which do their Maker's follies vain set forth;
Alteri inserviens meipsum conficio.
Yet bless I them again, as many times,
For that in them, I blaze Alcilia's worth.
Meanwhile, I fare, as doth the torch by night,
Which wastes itself in giving others light.
LXI.
Enough of this! For all is nought regarded!
And She, not once, with my complaints is moved.