He rejoiceth that he had broken the Snares of Love

TANGLED I was in Love’s snare,

Oppressed with pain, torment with care;

Of grief right sure, of joy full bare,

Clean in despair by cruelty;

But ha! ha! ha! full well is me,

For I am now at liberty.

The woful days so full of pain,

The weary night all spent in vain,

The labour lost for so small gain,

To write them all it will not be;

But ha! ha! ha! full well is me,

For I am now at liberty.

Every thing that fair, doth shew,

When proof is made it proveth not so;

But turneth mirth to bitter woe,

Which in this case full well I see;

But ha! ha! ha! full well is me,

For I am now at liberty.

Too great desire was my guide,

And wanton will went by my side,

Hope ruled still and made me bide,

Of Love’s craft the extremity.

But ha! ha! ha! full well is me,

For I am now at liberty.

With feigned words, which were but wind,

To long delays I was assign’d;

Her wily looks my wits did blind;

Thus as she would I did agree.

But ha! ha! ha! full well is me,

For I am now at liberty.

Was never bird tangled in lime

That brake away in better time,

Than I, that rotten boughs did climb,

And had no hurt but scaped free.

Now ha! ha! ha! full well is me,

For I am now at liberty.