OF
YE HEARTE'S DESIRE
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Wythe
some it is shippes and golde;
Wythe some it is palaces faire;
Wythe some it is blossoms that folde
Theire beautie away fromme the aire;
Wythe some it is castles in Spaine,
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5 |
That
tower through a rosie cloude;
Wythe some it is visions of paine
That compass them here like a shroud.
Wythe others ’tis feasting and fun,
The thyng they call “lyfe,” no doubt;
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Wythe
some it is fame well-done
And garnished with puffes about;
Wythe some it is places highe;
Wythe some it is stockes and shares;
Wythe others ’tis kites to flie;
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15 |
| Wythe
some it is fancie faires.
Wythe some it is grace to walk
Through lyfe aright to the grave;
Wythe some it is yearning to talk
Wythe the friend beyond the wave;
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Wythe
some ’tis to make new friends,
Wythe others to keep but one;
Wythe some ’tis to make both ends
Meet as they never have done.
None of these wyshes are myne.
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25 |
Lovers
who guess my plight,
Reading between each lyne
Lo, ye have guessed aright!
Only my hearte’s desire—
To feel that my love forgives,
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30 |
That
his hearte will never tire
Of loving me while he lives!
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