Shall I sue?

Shall I sue, shall I seek for grace?

Shall I pray shall I prove?

Shall I strive to a heav'nly joy,

With an earthly love?

Shall I think that a bleeding heart

Or a wounded eye,

Or a sigh can ascend the clouds,

To attain so high?

Silly wretch, forsake these dreams

Of a vain desire,

O bethink what high regard

Holy hopes do require.

Favour is as fair as things are,

Treasure is not bought,

Favour is not won with words,

Nor the wish of a thought.

Justice gives each man his own,

Though my love be just,

Yet will not she pity my grief,

Therefore die I must.

Silly heart then yield to die

Perish in despair,

Witness yet how fain I die,

When I die for the fair.