Faine would I my loue disclose

Faine would I my loue disclose,

Aske what honour might denye;

But both loue and her I lose,

From my motion if shee flye.

Worse then paine is feare to mee:

Then hold in fancy though it burne

If not happy, safe Ile be,

And to my clostred cares returne.

Yet, ô yet, in vaine I striue

To represse my school'd desire;

More and more the flames reuiue,

I consume in mine owne fire.

She would pitty, might shee know

The harmes that I for her endure:

Speake then, and get comfort so;

A wound long hid growes past recure.

Wise shee is, and needs must know

All th' attempts that beauty moues:

Fayre she is, and honour'd so

That she, sure, hath tryed some loues.

If with loue I tempt her then,

'Tis but her due to be desir'd:

What would women thinke of men

If their deserts were not admir'd?

Women, courted, haue the hand

To discard what they distaste:

But those Dames whom none demand

Want oft what their wils imbrac't.

Could their firmnesse iron excell,

As they are faire, they should be sought:

When true theeues vse falsehood well,

As they are wise they will be caught.