III
The tablet of my heavy fortunes here
Upon thine altar, Paphian Power, I place.
The grievous shipwreck of my travels dear
In bulged bark, all perished in disgrace.
That traitor Love was pilot to my woe;
My sails were hope, spread with my sighs of grief;
The twin lights which my hapless course did show
Hard by th'inconstant sands of false relief,
Were two bright stars which led my view apart.
A siren's voice allured me come so near
To perish on the marble of her heart,
A danger which my soul did never fear.
Lo, thus he fares that trusts a calm too much;
And thus fare I whose credit hath been such!
IV
Weigh but the cause, and give me leave to plain me,
For all my hurt, that my heart's queen hath wrought it;
She whom I love so dear, the more to pain me,
Withholds my right where I have dearly bought it.
Dearly I bought that was so slightly rated,
Even with the price of blood and body's wasting;
She would not yield that ought might be abated,
For all she saw my love was pure and lasting,
And yet now scorns performance of the passion,
And with her presence justice overruleth.
She tells me flat her beauty bears no action;
And so my plea and process she excludeth.
What wrong she doth, the world may well perceive it,
To accept my faith at first, and then to leave it.
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