If love now reigned as it hath beenAnd were rewarded as it hath sin,
Noble men then would sure ensearchAll ways whereby they might it reach,
But envy reigneth with such disdainAnd causeth lovers outwardly to refrain,
Which puts them to more and moreInwardly most grievous and sore.
The fault in whom I cannot set,But let them tell which love doth get--
To lovers I put now sure this case:Which of their loves doth get them grace?
And unto them which doth it knowBetter than do I, I think it so.
