Wit's Pilgrimage - Part 77
The Polipp Fishe sitts all the Winter longe
Stock-still, through Slouthe, and on him selfe doth feede,
So, through the cold of feare I do, in deede,
Whereby the Libertie of Loue I wronge,
But they do perishe, pittilesse, that weare
(Through slouthe) away, that might bee fatt and Faire
By honest Labour ; hie Promotions Staire:
So, do I perishe, pittilesse, through Feare,
Yet, can I not but feare your scorne, dread Dame
If I should labour to disclose my Loue,
Sith your high fortunes myne are farre abone,
This maks me, through my slouthe, to worke my blame:
But, lest I should my selfe so quite consume
To say I loue you, let my loue presume.
Stock-still, through Slouthe, and on him selfe doth feede,
So, through the cold of feare I do, in deede,
Whereby the Libertie of Loue I wronge,
But they do perishe, pittilesse, that weare
(Through slouthe) away, that might bee fatt and Faire
By honest Labour ; hie Promotions Staire:
So, do I perishe, pittilesse, through Feare,
Yet, can I not but feare your scorne, dread Dame
If I should labour to disclose my Loue,
Sith your high fortunes myne are farre abone,
This maks me, through my slouthe, to worke my blame:
But, lest I should my selfe so quite consume
To say I loue you, let my loue presume.
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