Which runs and roares against the rocks, and threatneth daungers oft
Resembleth lo the fits of loue,
That dayly do my fansie moue.
My heart it is the ship, that driues on salt Sea fome,
And reason sayles with senselesse wit, and neuer loketh home,
For loue is guide, and leades the daunce,
That brings good hap, or breedes mischaunce.
The furious flames of loue, that neuer ceaseth sure,
Are loe the busie sailes and oares, that would my rest procure,
And as in Skies, great windes do blo,