Which flieth but in the night,
As all men know right well.

Or if I sought to sail
Into the brittle port,

Where anchor hold doth fail

To such as do resort;

And leave the haven sure,

Where blows no blustering, wind;

Nor. fickleness in ure,1

So far-forth as I find.

No! think me not so light,
Nor of so churlish kind,
Though it lay in my might
My bondage to unbind,
That I would leave the hind
To hunt the gander's foe.
No! no! I have no mind
To make exchanges so.

Nor yet to change at all;
For think, it may not be
That I should seek to fall
From my felicity.
Desirous for to win,
And loth for to forego;
Or new change to begin;
How may all this be so?

The fire it cannot freeze,
For it is not his kind;

Practise.

2 The fox.

Nor true love cannot lese 1
The constance of the mind.
Yet as soon shall the fire
Want heat to blaze and burn;
As I, in such desire,

Have once a thought to turn.

A CARELESS MAN

SCORNING AND DESCRIBING THE SUBTLE USAGE OF

WOMEN TOWARD THEIR LOVERS.

RAPT in my careless cloak, as I walk to and fro,

I see how Love can shew what force there reigneth in his bow:

And how he shooteth eke a hardy heart to wound; And where he glanceth by again, that little hurt is found.

For seldom is it seen he woundeth hearts alike; The one may rage, when t'other's love is often far to seek.

All this I see, with more; and wonder thinketh me How he can strike the one so sore, and leave the other free.

I see that wounded wight that suff'reth all this

wrong,

How he is fed with yeas and nays, and liveth all

too long.

1 Lose.

In silence though I keep such secrets to myself, Yet do I see how she sometime doth yield a look by stealth,

As though it seem'd; 'I wis, I will not lose thee

so:'

When in her heart so sweet a thought did never truly grow.

Then say I thus: Alas! that man is far from bliss, That doth receive for his relief none other gain but this.'

And she, that feeds him so, I feel and find it plain, Is but to glory in her power, that over such can

reign.

Nor are such graces spent, but when she thinks, that he,

A wearied man, is fully bent such fancies to let flee. Then to retain him still, she wrasteth new her grace, And smileth, lo! as though she would forthwith. the man embrace.

But when the proof is made to try such looks withal, He findeth then the place all void, and freighted full of gall.

Lord! what abuse is this; who can such women praise,

That for their glory do devise to use such crafty

ways?

I, that among the rest do sit and mark the row, Find that in her is greater craft, than is in twenty

mo':

Whose tender years, alas! with wiles so well are

sped,

What will she do when hoary hairs are powder'd in her head?

AN ANSWER IN THE BEHALF OF A

WOMAN.

OF AN UNCERTAIN AUTHOR.1

IRT in my guiltless gown, as I sit here and sow,

I see that things are not in deed, as to the outward show.

And who so list to look and note things somewhat

near,

Shall find where plainness seems to haunt, nothing but craft appear.

For with indifferent eyes myself can well discern, How some to guide a ship in storms stick not to take the stern;

Whose skill and courage tried 3 in calm to steer a

barge,

They would soon shew, you should foresee, it were too great a charge.

And some I see again sit still and say but small,

1 This poem was printed as in the text by Dr. Nott, from the Harrington MS., which alone contains the last eighteen lines. The variations between that copy and the printed editions are pointed out in the notes. The remark in Tottel's Collection that it was by "an uncertain author" justifies a doubt whether it was written by Surrey. It is there entitled "Of the Dissembling Lover."

2 seek for.

3 Whose practice if were proved.

Assuredly believe it well.

That can

1 do ten times more than they that say they can do all.

Whose goodly gifts are such, the more they understand,

The more they seek to learn and know, and take less charge in hand.

And to declare more plain, the time flits not so

fast,

But I can bear right well in mind the song now sung, and past;

The author whereof came, wrapt in a crafty cloak, In3 will to force a flaming fire where he could

raise no smoke.

4

If power and will had met, as it appeareth plain, The truth nor right had ta'en no place; their

virtues had been vain.

So that you may perceive, and I may safely see, The innocent that guiltless is, condemned should

have be.

Much like untruth to this the story doth declare, Where the Elders laid to Susan's charge meet

matter to compare.

They did her both accuse, and eke condemn her

too,

And yet no reason, right, nor truth, did lead them so to do!

And she thus judg'd to die, toward her death went forth,

Fraughted with faith, a patient pace, taking her wrong in worth.

But He that doth defend all those that in him trust,

I could

2 full.

3 With.

4 join'd.

5 Then.