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It takes no heede, and hath but small remorce,
To whom, what, where, how oft, why, how and when
Her praises be, nor of her little force,
Nor vertues of this fairest one; But then,
All in a heate, her praise begins to babble,
And I to stay such furie far vnable:
For thousand times I sharply chide the same,
But more I chide, the more it is to blame.

Counsell I giue it, and with counsell threate,
That neuer it presume to meddle heere,
By telling it, it is too base a seate
For her high praise, that neuer had her peere:
But shamelesse it replies: let this not greeue thee,
And boldly saies: T’is true I doe beleeue thee.
For I confesse I neuer did suffice,
But such a want I hope my will supplies.

As to a foole, seeing her follies such,
Sometimes I yeeld at length, to leaue the raine:
If then my Nymph so basely it doth touch,
It doth deserue no punishment, nor paine:
For howsoere she praise her: In the end
I feare not, that my loue it will offend:
But to returne fro whence my toong did run,
Breefly I will conclude what I begun.

Another Cupid raignes within my brest,
Then Venus sonne that blinde, and franticke boy:
Diuers his works, intent and interest,
His fashions, sportes, his pleasure and his ioy
No slightes, deceites, nor woes he doth inspire,
He burnes not like to that vnseemely fire:
From reason, will my loue cannot entice,
Since that it is not placed in this vice.

For beautie I loue not my Shepherdesse
(Although she may be lou’d for passing faire)
Beautie in her the lest part doth possesse,
(Though hers doth make all others to despaire)
For mildnes, wisedome, and for vertues sake,
This zealous loue I first did vndertake:
And so my loue is honest, chaste, and sure,
Not wanton, fleshly, filthie, nor vnpure.

I wish my flockes greene grasse may neuer finde,
Nor cleerest springs, their burning thirst to slake,
Nor shades enioy in heate, nor coolest winde,