Grief but Love's winter livery is, the boy Hath cheeks to smile, as well as eyes to weep. In well-rais'd notes, my pen the best it may Shall paint out joy, though but in black and white. And no content to be Perfection's heir Thyself, dost strive all minds that way to move, Who mark in thee what is in thee most fair. Now will I teach her that she, When she wakes, is too, too cruel. Now will I with that boy prove Some play, whle he is disarm'd.
Cowards Love with loss rewardeth.
Now will I alas refreain, Love fears nothing else but anger. Oh sweet kiss. But ah, she is waking. More fool for no more taking . Anger invests with such a lovely grace, That Anger's self I needs must kiss again.