1
Loue wing'd my hopes and taught me howe to flie,
Farre frombase earth but not to mount too hie,
for true pleasure
liues in measure
which if men forsake,
Blinded they into follie runne, and griefe for pleasure take.
2
But my vaine hopes proude of their new taught flight,
Enamourd sought to woo the Sunnes fayre light,
whose rich brightnesse
mooued their lightnesse
to aspire so hye,
That all scorch't and consum'd with fire, now drowned in woe they lye.
3
And none but loue their wofull hap did rue,
For loue did know that their desires were true,
though fate frowned,
and now drowned,
they in sorrow dwell,
It was the purest light of heauen, for whose fayre loue they fell.
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