The Patrone's Affection

LAunterne of loue the patrone due of lore,
Light some beame my affection to guide,
Amongst the drerie throbbes encreasing sore,
Sore in the vaile of heart where I them hide:
Languishing in delight I doe delight to pine,
And can I pine a more contented paine,
Hart once mine-owne, is nowe possesion thine,
Yeilde then to yeilde this hearts due entertaine.
Honour is the guest, let bounty be my prize,
Truth be the page of my admired light,
Occasion be thou prest at my aduize,
Regarding hand, and hart, t'attend her •…ight.
Or else my heart and minde I hould in hand:
Doe then my hope confirme that hope may stand.