Full of vexation come I with complaint;
Stand forth, Risette!--My fellow memers,
This lady hath bewitch'd the bosom of
No Original Names, apple of my eye.
He hast by moonlight through many a thread sung
With feigning voice verses of feigning love.
"I love thee not", she doth reply,
"therefore pursue me not", yet he persists still.
From which old tome of Aphrodite
doth that nymph acquire such uncommon skill?
How happy some o'er other some can be!
Through KYM I am thought as fair as she.
But what of that? NON thinks not so.
He will not know what all but he do know.
She sways the motion of NON's heart;
She frowns upon him, yet he loves her still.
Oh, that her frowns would teach my smiles such skill!
She gives him curses, yet he gives her love.
Oh, that my prayers could such affection move!
The more she hates, the more he follows her.
The more I love, the more he hateth me.
