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A Handful of Pleasant Delights/The Louer compareth him self to the painful Falconer

The Louer compareth him self to the painful Falconer. To the tune, I loued her ouer wel.

THe soaring hawk from fist that flies,
her Falconer doth constraine:
Sometime to range the ground vnknown,
to find her out againe:
And if by sight or sound of bell,
his falcon he may see:
Wo ho he cries, with cheerful voice,
the gladdest man is he.

By Lure then in finest sort,
he seekes to bring her in:
But if that she, ful gorged be,
he can not so her win:
Although her becks and bending eies,
she manie proffers makes:
Wo ho ho he cries, awaie she flies,
and so her leaue she takes.

This wofull man with wearie limmes,
runnes wandring round about:
At length by noise of chattering Pies,
his hawke againe found out
His heart was glad his eies had seen,
his falcon swift of flight:
Wo ho ho he cries, she emptie gorgde,
vpon his Lure doth light.

How glad was then the falconer there,
no pen nor tongue can tel:
He swam in blisse that lately felt
like paines of cruel hel.
His hand somtime vpon her train,
somtime vpon her brest:
Wo ho ho he cries with chearfull voice,
his heart was now at rest.

My deer likewise, beholde thy loue,
what paines he doth indure:
And now at length let pitie moue,
to stoup vnto his Lure.
A hood of silk, and siluer belles,
new gifts I promise thee:
Wo ho ho, I crie, I come then saie,
make me as glad as hee.