While Fortune willèd that for me remain
Some grateful esp'rance of some glad content,
The joys of gentle thought a longing lent
To pen life's pleasures and depaint its pain;
But Cupid, fearing lest such writ contain
Lere for the judgments Love hath never shent,
With darkling tortures 'gan my wits torment
That of his treach'ry I should ne'er complain.
O ye, whom Love's obligeance may subject
To divers wills! whenso ye read thereof
Bound in one booklet cases so diverse,
(Which all be truthful; facts without defect,)
Learn that according as ye have the love,
So shall ye have the lore, of this my verse.