CLORIS, it is not thy disdaine
Can ever cover with dispaire
Or in cold ashes hide that care
Which I have fedd with soe long paine,
I may perhaps myne eyes refraine 5
And fruiteless wordes noe more impart,
But yet still serve, still serve thee in my hearte.
What though I spend my haplesse dayes
In finding entertainements out,
Carelesse of what I goe about, 10
Or seeke my peace in skillfull wayes
Applying to my Eyes new rays
Of Beauty, and another flame
Unto my Heart, my heart is still the same.
Tis true that I could love noe face 15
Inhabited by cold disdayne,
Taking delight in others paine.
Thy lookes are full of native grace;
Since then by chance scorne there hath place,
Tis to be hop’t I may remove 20
This scorne one day, one day by Endless Love.