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A Handful of Pleasant Delights/The Louer being wounded with his Ladis beutie, requireth mercy

The Louer being wounded with his Ladis beutie, requireth mercy.

To the tune of Apelles.

THe liuelie sparkes of those two eyes,
my wounded hart hath set on fire:
And since I can no way deuise,
To stay the rage of my desire,
with sighs and trembling tears I craue
my deare on me some pitie haue.

In vewing thee, I tooke such ioy,
As one that sought his quiet rest:
Vntill I felt the fethered boy,
Ay flickring in my captiue brest:
Since that time loe, in deepe dispaire,
all voide of ioy, my time I weare.

The wofull prisoner Palemon.
And Troylus eke kinge Pyramus sonne,
Constrained by loue did neuer mone:
As I my deer for thee haue done.
Let pitie then requite my paines,
My life and death in thee remaines.

If constant loue may reape his hire,
And faith vnfained may purchace:
Great hope I haue to my desire.
Your gentle hart wil grant me grace,
Til then (my deer) in few words plaine,
In pensiue thoughts I shall remaine.