To His Rivall

Her lou'd I most,         By thee that 's lost,     Though she were wonne with leasure;         She was my gaine,         But to my paine,     Thou spoyl'st me of my Treasure.         The Ship full fraught         With Gold, farre sought,     Though ne'r so wisely helmed,         May suffer wracke         In sayling backe,     By Tempest ouer-whelmed.         But shee, good Sir,         Did not preferre     You, for that I was ranging;         But for that shee         Found faith in mee,     And she lou'd to be changing.         Therefore boast not         Your happy Lot,     Be silent now you haue her;         The time I knew         She slighted you,     When I was in her fauour.         None stands so fast,         But may be cast     By Fortune, and disgraced:         Once did I weare         Her Garter there,     Where you her Gloue haue placed.         I had the Vow         That thou hast now,     And Glances to discouer         Her Loue to mee,         And she to thee     Reades but old Lessons ouer.         She hath no Smile         That can beguile,     But as my Thought I know it;         Yea, to a Hayre,         Both when and where,     And how she will bestow it.         What now is thine,         Was onely mine,     And first to me was giuen;         Thou laugh'st at mee,         I laugh at thee,     And thus we two are euen.         But Ile not mourne,         But stay my Turne,     The Wind may come about, Sir,         And once againe         May bring me in,     And help to beare you out, Sir.