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For all the bones, which thou didst leaue,
With greedy stomacke I did picke,
Bicause I onely did conceaue,
That they thy daintie mouth did licke.

The place I marked of the pot,
That did thy Corall lips diuide,
When thou didst drinke, and I did not
Forget to drinke of that same side.

And with the wine which I did shed
Of purpose, on the cloth aboue:
Often (in vaine) these words in red
My finger wrote: I loue, I loue:

(Disdainfull) thou dost not esteeme
These signes, nor these in ductions know,
Or dost at least (as it doth seeme
Dissemble: it must needes be so.

And onely that thou dost dissemble,
Which might vnto my profit fall,
But that which makes me now to tremble,
Alas, thou fainest not at all.

By seeing such effects in me,
That thou dost cause my heauines,
Thou fain’st, my plaintes are not for thee,
But for some other Shepher desse.

Thou seest how for thy loue I paine,
And at thy gracious feete I lie.
(To grecue me more) yet dost thou faine,
That for another I doe die.

But if thy beauties in great store
Engender pride of such excesse,
Thou must beleeue, and faine no more,
That my pure loue is no whit lesse.

If thy perfections doe surpasse
All beauties that the world doth breede,
As much as Dimond passeth glasse,
So doth my loue all loues exceede.

And when thou com’st to know, that none
Is worthy of thy louely grace,
Thou must not faine, that I am one,
That may deserue so sweete a place.

I am not worthy of so deere
A choice (I say) to be my lot,
Since all the world hath not thy peere,
For that it selfe descrues thee not.

And though I said so (in a vaine)
I shall not be beleeu’d, I knowe;
For well thou know’st what one doth faine,
Is of a thing which is not soe.

Distose of me euen at thy will,
And faine as much as any one,
So thou beleeue, and faine not still,
That I loue none, but thee alone.

Then on thy gentlenes I call
In pitie, which thou hast forgot,
Thou would’st not mocke my loue at all,
Nor faine, that I doe loue thee not.

Great Ioue can witnesse heere to thee,
That it doth greeue me not so much,
The little loue thou bear’st to me,
As once to faine, that mine is such.

Nor it doth greeue me of thy guise,
To see thee mocke me in such sort:
Or that my things in any wise
May cause thy laughter and thy sport.

But it doth glad me without measure,
That thou dost mocke my loue so lost,
Since by such meanes I giue thee pleasure:
(Although it be vnto my cost.)

To make thee laugh, I doe adiure
The heauens (as I thy loue may ioy)
That many times I doe procure
To doe, and tell thee many a toy.

And though I know none willomit
To call me foole (not without cause)
A simple man of little wit,
Sweruing too much from reasons lawes:

Yet Shepherdesse it skils me not,
Nor it doth not my minde dismay
That all repute me for a sot,
So I may please thee any way.