To his Love from whom he had her Gloves

WHAT needs these threatening words and wasted wind?

All this cannot make me restore my prey.

To rob your goods, I wis is not my mind,

Nor causeless your fair hand did I display.

Let Love be judge, or else whom next we find,

That may both hear what you and I can say.

She reft my heart, and I a glove from her:

Let us see then, if one be worth the other.