To plead my faith where faith has no reward
To move remorse where favour is not borne
To heap complaints, which she doth not regard
Were fruitless, bootless, vain and yields but scorn.
I loved her whom all the world admir'd,
I was refused of her that can love none,
And my vain hopes, which far too high aspired
Are dead and buried and forever gone.
Forget my name, since you have scorned my love,
And woman-like, do not too late lament;
Since for your sake I must all mischief prove
I none accuse nor nothing do repent.
I was as fond as ever she was fair,
Yet loved I not, more than I now despair.