heart, mine eye let in her eye;
And so consent gave to a _murder_ wrought.
And _covetous_, it never would remove
From her fair hair, gold so doth please his sight.
_Unchaste_, a baud between my heart and love.
A _glutton_ eye, with tears drunk every night.
These sins procured have a goddess' ire,
Wherefore my heart is damned in love's sweet fire.

VII

_Of the slander envy gives him for so highly praising his mistress_

Falsely doth envy of your praises blame
My tongue, my pen, my heart of flattery,
Because I said there was no sun but thee.
It called my tongue the partial trump of fame,
And saith my pen hath flattered thy name,
Because my pen did to my tongue agree;
And that my heart must needs a flatterer be,
Which taught both tongue and pen to say the same.
No, no, I flatter not when thee I call
The sun, sith that the sun was never such;
But when the sun thee I compared withal,
Doubtless the sun I flattered too much.
Witness mine eyes, I say the truth in this,
They have seen thee and know that so it is.

VIII

_Of the end and death of his love_

Much sorrow in itself my love doth move,
More my despair to love a hopeless bliss,
My folly most to love whom sure to miss
O help me, but this last grief to remove;
All pains, if you command, it joy shall prove,
And wisdom to seek joy. Then say but this,
"Because my pleasure in thy torment is,
I do command thee without hope to love!"
So when this thought my sorrow shall augment
That my own folly did procure my pain,
Then shall I say to give myself content,
"Obedience only made me love in vain.
It was your will, and not my want of wit;
I have the pain, bear you the blame of it!"

IX

_Upon occasion of her walking in a garden_

My lady's presence makes the roses red,
Because to see her lips they blush with shame.
The lily's leaves for envy pale became,
And her white hands in them this envy bred.
The marigold the leaves abroad doth spread,
Because the sun's and her power is the same.
The violet of purple colour came,
Dyed in the blood she made my heart to shed.
In brief, all flowers from her their virtue take;
From her sweet breath their sweet smells do proceed;
The living heat which her eyebeams doth make
Warmeth