If Gold Ruste, What Shall Iren Do?

Alas, Alas, That Ever Love Was Sin! I Ever Followed Natural Inclination Under The Power Of My Constellation And Was Unable To Deny, In Truth, My Chamber Of Venus To A Likely Youth.

For Tyme Y-lost May Not Recovered Be.

If Love Be Good, From Whence Cometh My Woe?

Whan That Aprill With His Shoures Soote The Droghte Of March Hath Perced To The Roote.

The Handsome Gifts That Fate And Nature Lend Us Most Often Are The Very Ones That End Us.