Vpon this holy squared stone, which Aulter men doe call, To some one of the Gods aboue that consecrated is, This dolefull verse I do ingraue, in token of my thrall, And deadly griefes that do my silly heart oppresse, And vex with endelesse paynes, which neuer quiet is, This wofull verse (I say) as surest gage of my distresse, I fixe on Aulter stone for euer to remayne, To shew the heart of truest wight, that euer liued in payne. And vpon the brims of that Table, he carued these Wordes: This Mason worke erected here, shall not so long abide, As shall the common name of two, that now vncoupled bee, Who after froward fortune past, knit eche in one degree, Shall render for right earnest loue, reward on either side. And before his Lodging in that wilde and stony Forrest vpon the Barke of a lofty Beeche Tree, feeling in himselfe an unaccustomed lustinesse, thus he wrote: Th’encreasing beauty of thy shape, extending far thy name, By like increase I hope to see, so stretched forth my fame. His man seeing him to begin to be merily disposed, one day said vnto him: “And wherefore sir serueth the Lute, which I brought amongs our Males, if you do not assay thereby to recreate youre selfe, and sing thereupon the prayses of hir whom you loue so wel: yea and if I may so say, by worshipping hir, you do commit idolatry in your minde. Is it not your pleasure that I fetche the same vnto you, that by immitation of Orpheus, you may mooue the Trees, Rocks, and wylde Beastes to bewayle your misfortune, and witnesse the penaunce that you doe for hir sake, without cause of so haynous punishment:” “I see well,” (quod the knight) “that thou wouldest I should be mery, but mirth is so far from me, as I am estraunged from hir that holdeth me in this misery. Notwithstanding I will performe thy request, and will awake that instrument in this desert place, wherewith sometime I witnessed the greatest part of my passions.” Then the knight receyuing the Lute sounded thereupon this song ensuing. The waues and troubled scum, that mooues the Seas alofte, Which runs and roares against the rocks, and threatneth daungers oft Resembleth lo the fits of loue, That dayly do my fansie moue. My heart it is the ship, that driues on salt Sea fome, And reason sayles with senselesse wit, and neuer loketh home, For loue is guide, and leades the daunce, That brings good hap, or breedes mischaunce. The furious flames of loue, that neuer ceaseth sure, Are loe the busie sailes and oares, that would my rest procure, And as in Skies, great windes do blo, My swift desires runnes, fleeting so. As sweete Zephyrus breath, in spring time feedes the floures, My mistresse voice would ioye my wits, by hir most heauenly powers, And would exchaunge my state I say, As Sommer chaungeth Winter’s day.