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And they poore soules haue labour’d all in vaine:
But I, if that my greefe will suffer me,
By triall can unfold thy miserie.
Thy properties so false I haue concealed,
Thy wicked workes (till now) I haue endured:
From thy deceits I neuer yet appealed,
Feare of thy wrath my patient minde conjured
To passe that, which I neuer yet reuealed.
And not to play with thee (false world) at ouuert,
But euer in thy blazons to be couert.
Now without feare, for now I am assured,
That more thou canst not doe, then done alreadie:
Now may I boldly tell what I endured,
(Although in vaine) to helpe my greefe so steady:
Thus euer hath the want of feare procured
The poore mans song, as by the way he goeth,
Fearing no theeues, whose harme the rich man knoweth.
O with the sweetenes false world thou dost glut vs
Of thy enchaunted baites that doe delight vs,
And in thy nets of pleasures thou dost shut vs,
Where with thy hidden hookes thou dost requite vs:
And after all when smoothly thou hast put vs
In danger, then too open thou dost show them,
When with resistance we cannot forgoe them.
Thy promises are great, thy giftes are failing,
And not to challenge them thou dost disdaine vs:
In thy enormous vices we are failing
With winde in poope, where still thou dost detaine vs;
And in the end though nothing then auailing,
The shelues and rockes to vs thou are a showing,
When backward our fraile barke cannot be going.
Yet some though few, haue left thee with adutse,
Fearing they sudden frowne and wonted pranks:
And others (though too late they haue beene wise)
To their good hap haue giuen a thousand thankes,
Whose eares thy Syren songs could not entice,
Seeing the pay that thou didst giue to mee
For all the seruice I haue done to thee.
And how for good with ill thou dost requite,
Thou puttest out our eies, and then in vaine,
With comfort wouldst annoynt our blinded sight:
Thou woundest all, bicause none may complaine
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