Ad amicam.
I ask but right, let her that caught me late,
Either love, or cause that I may never hate;
I crave too much—would she but let me love her;
Jove knows with such-like prayers I daily move her.
Accept him that shall serve thee all his youth,
Accept him that shall love with spotless truth.
If lofty titles cannot make me thine,
That am descended but of knightly line,
(Soon may you plough the little land I have;
I gladly grant my parents given to save;)
Apollo, Bacchus, and the Muses may;
And Cupid who hath marked me for thy prey;
My spotless life, which but to gods gives place,
Naked simplicity, and modest grace.
I love but one, and her I love change never,
If men have faith, I'll live with thee for ever.
The years that fatal Destiny shall give
I'll live with thee, and die ere thou shalt grieve.
Be thou the happy subject of my books
That I may write things worthy thy fair looks.
By verses, horned Iˆ got her name;
And she to whom in shape of swan Jove came;
And she that on a feigned Bull swam to land,
Griping his false horns with her virgin hand,
So likewise we will through the world be rung
And with my name shall thine be always sung.