When I was forst from Stella ever deare,
Stella, foode of my thoughts, hart of my hart:
Stella, whose eyes make all my temples cleare,
By Yron lawes, of duetie to depart,
Alas I found that shee with mee did smart:
I sawe that teares did in her eyes appeare:
I sawe that sighes her sweetest lips did part:
And her sad words my sadded sense did heare.
For mee, I weepe to see Pearles scattered so:
I sighd her sighes, and wailed for her woe:
Yet swamme in joy such love in her was seene.
Thus while the effect most bitter was to mee,
And nothing than that cause more sweet could be,
I had beene vext, if vext I had not beene.