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The Lover lightly setteth by

Your japes, and careth not one fly

If lies you speak or otherwise,

In no degree it moves or tries

His spirit, he but comes and goes,

Indifferent as the wind that blows,

Hither resorting now and then

By chance, the same as other men.

But to speak frankly, great surprise

It is to me to note your eyes

Ever awatch beside the gate,

From early morn till night grows late,

Your lance in rest, as you’d defy

Each man who fared afoot hereby.

Unceasing vigil do you keep,

Neglecting rest and needful sleep,

Yet ne’er will Jealousy plenish you

What to your restless care is due;

But sad Fair-Welcome ’tis to see

Prisoned for no delinquency

Or crime: he in confinement wears

His life away ’mid sighs and tears.

Would God you in the world had done

Naught worse than this unhappy one!

’Twould be, an’t please you, naught but just,

If you from out your post were thrust,

And thrown in prison bound with chains,

For well will you deserve hell’s pains

If you repent not ere you die.

VOL. II.