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, I know that in thy lofty wit

Thou wilt but laugh at these my youthful lines.

Content I am they should in silence sit,

Obscured from light, to sing their sad designs;

But that it pleasèd thy grave shepherdhood

The patron of my maiden verse to be,

When I in doubt of raging envy stood;

And now I weigh not who shall Chloris see,

For fruit before it comes to full perfection

But blossoms is, as every man doth know;

So these being blooms and under thy protection,

In time I hope to ripeness more will grow.

And so I leave thee to thy worthy muse,

Desiring thee all faults here to excuse.