The faithful Lover giveth to his Mistress his Heart as his best and only Treasure

TO seek each where where man doth live,

The sea, the land, the rock, the clive,

France, Spain, and Inde, and every where;

Is none a greater gift to give,

Less set by oft, and is so lief and dear,

Dare I well say, than that I give to year.

I cannot give broaches nor rings,

These goldsmith work, and goodly things,

Pierrie, nor pearl, orient and clear;

But for all that can no man bring

Lieffer jewel unto his lady dear,

Dare I well say, than that I give to year.

Nor I seek not to fetch it far;

Worse is it not tho’ it be narr,

And as it is, it doth appear

Uncounterfeit mistrust to bar.

It is both whole, and pure, withouten peer,

Dare I will say, the gift I give to year.

To thee therefore the same retain;

The like of thee to have again

France would I give, if mine it were.

Is none alive in whom doth reign

Lesser disdain; freely therefore lo! here

Dare I well give, I say, my heart to year.