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The knot
which fyrst my hert did strayn,
When
that your servant I becam,
Doth
bynd me still for to remain
Allwayes
your owne, as now I
am ;
And
if you fynd that I do fayne,
With
just jugement
my selfe I dam
To
have dysdain.
If other
thought in me do groo
But
styl to love you stedfastlye,
If
that the proff do not well
shoo
That
I am yours asurydly,
Let
every wellth turne me to
woo,
And you to me continually
My
chefest foo.
If other
love or new Request
Doo
ese my hart, but only this,
Or
if within my weryd brest
Be
hyd on thought that mene
amys,
I
do desyer that myn unrest
May styll increse, and I to mys
What
I love best.
If in my
love ther be oon spott
Of
false desayyt or dobylnes,
Or
if I mynd to slyp thys knot
By
want of faithe or stedfastnes,
Let
all my sarvyes be for nott
And when I wold have chef redres
Estem
me nott.
But if
that I consume in paine
Of
burning syghes, and fervent
love,
And
daly seke no nother gayne
But
with my ded these wordes
to prove,
Methink
of ryght I shuld obtayn
That ye wold mynd for to remove
Your
gret disdayn.
And for
the end of this my song
Unto
your handes I do submit
My
dedly greffe, and payns so
strong,
Whych
in my hert be fermly shytt
;
And
when ye lyst, redres me
wrong,
Sens well ye know this paynfull ffytt
Hath
last tto long.
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The knot which
first my heart did strain,
When
that your servant I became,
Doth
bind me still for to remain
Always
your own, as now I am.
And
if you find that I do feign,
With
just judgement
my self I damn
To
have disdain.
If other thought in
me do grow
But
still to love you stedfastly,
If
that the proof do not well show
That
I am yours assuredly,
Let
every wealth turn me to woe,
And you to me continually
My
chiefest foe.
If other love or
new request
Do
ease my heart, but only this,
Or
if within my wearied breast
Be
hid one thought that mean amiss,
I
do desire that mine unrest
May still increase, and I to miss
What
I love best.
If in my love there
be one spot
Of
false deceit or doubleness,
Or
if I mind to slip this knot
By
want of faith or steadfastness,
Let
all my service be for nought
And when I would have chief redress
Esteem
me not.
But if that I
consume in pain
Of
burning sighs, and fervent love,
And
daily seek no nother gain
But
with my deed these words to
prove,
Methink
of right I should obtain
That ye would mind for to remove
Your
great disdain.
And for the end of
this my song
Unto
your hands I do submit
My
deadly grief and pains so strong,
Which
in my heart be firmly shut.
And
when ye list, redress my wrong,
Since well ye know this painful fit
Hath
last too long.
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