The Lover’s Case cannot be hidden however he dissemble

YOUR looks so often cast,

Your eyes so friendly roll’d,

Your sight fixed so fast,

Always one to behold;

Though hide it fain ye would,

It plainly doth declare,

Who hath your heart in hold,

And where good will ye bear.

Fain would ye find a cloak

Your brenning fire to hide,

Yet both the flame and smoke

Breaks out on every side.

Ye cannot love so guide,

That it no issue win:

Abroad needs must it glide,

That brens so hot within.

For cause yourself do wink,

Ye judge all other blind;

And secret it you think,

Which every man doth find.

In waste oft spend ye wind,

Yourself in love to quit;

For agues of that kind

Will shew who hath the fit.

Your sighs you fetch from far,

And all to wry your woe;

Yet are ye ne’er the narre:

Men are not blinded so.

Deeply oft swear ye no;

But all those oaths are vain:

So well your eye doth shew,

Who puts your heart to pain.

Think not therefore to hide,

That still itself betrays:

Nor seek means to provide

To dark the sunny days.

Forget those wonted ways;

Leave off such frowning cheer;

There will be found no stays,

To stop a thing so clear.