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Vaine men whose follies make a god of love, How eas´ly wert thou chained, Harden now thy tired heart, O what unhop´d for sweet supply, Where she her sacred bow´r adorns, Fain would I my love disclose, Give beauty all her right, O der that I whit three might live, Good men show if you can tell, What harvest half so sweet is, Sweet exclude me not, The peaceful western wind, There is none o none but you, Pin´d I am and like to die, So many loves have I neglected, Though your strangeness frets my heart, Come away come away, Come you pretty false eyed wanton, A secret love or two, Her rosy cheeks, Where shall I refuge seek