Shall I strive with wordes to move
When deedes receive not due regard
Shall I speake and neyther please
Nor be freely heard
Griefe alas though all in vaine
Her restlesse anguish must reveale
Shee alone my wound shall know
Though shee will not heale
All woes have end though a while delaid
Our patience proving
Oh that time's strange effects
Could but make but make her loving
Stormes calme at last and why may not
Shee leave off her frowning
Oh sweet love help her hands
My affection crowning
I woo'd her I lov'd her
And none but her admire
O come deare joy and answere my desire
I woo'd her I lov'd her
And none but her admire
O come deare joy and answere my desire
