For lacke of conforte / my herte is almost spent

O meruelous fortune / which hast ĩ loue me brought

Where is my conforte / that I so longe haue sought

 O wonderfull loue / whiche fell vnto my lotte

O loue ryght clene / without ony thought vntrue

Syth thy fyrst louynge / not blemyssed with spotte

But euermore / the falseshede to extue

O dolorous payne / whiche doste renue

O pyteous herte / where is the helthe and boote

Of thy lady / that perst the at the roote

 What thynge is loue / that causeth suche turment

From whens cometh it / me thynke it is good questyõ

Yf it be nature / from nature it is sent

Loue maye come of kynde by true affeccyon

Loue may appetyte / by naturall eleccyon

Than must loue nedes be / I perceyue it in mynde

A thynge fyrst gyuen / by the god of kynde

 Alas o nature / why mayst not thou truely

Cause my lady loue / as thou hast me constrayned

Hath she power to domyne the vtterly

 Prev. P 15/55 next