Deprived of heart and yearn to speak
Of love’s clear view now rendered bleak
Is but of start to omen’s shown
With heart such lack and art unknown
Without the bold and brave to claim
Of how thou spirits thought it sane
Can yet present to mine own eye
Of soured youth from morbid crime
And then to say that love is not
When earnest love was eager sought
Is shame to bear upon my tounge
Thus sent to me so stained sung
So then it done
Have right be hung
With scattered retinue
Have faith becast
With acts so rash
To then turn to the few
Have wrong surmount it’s bitter fiend
Of virtues valient mind
Have emnity besiege it’s foes
The kindred and the kind
So then behold the bashful acts
Now cast upon the scene
Of spawns to which depart unwell
With actions yet undeemed