A Musicall Dreame

Robert Iones

1609

I. Though your strangenes frets my heart

       1   Though your strangenes frets my heart, 
            Yet must I not complaine,
        You perswade me tis but Art,
            Which secret loue must faine,
        If another you affect,
            Tis but a toy to auoide suspect,
        Is this faire excusing,
            O no, all is abusing. 

       2   When you wisht sight I desire, 
            Suspition you pretend,
        Causlesse you your selfe retire,
            Whilst I in vaine attend,
        Thus a louer as you say,
            Still made more eager by delay,
        Is this faire excusing,
            O no, all is abusing.

       3   When another holds your hand, 
            Youle sweare I hold your heart,
        Whilst my riuall close doth stand,
            And I sit farre apart,
        I am neerer yet then they,
            Hid in your bosome as you say,
        Is this faire excusing,
            O no, all is abusing.

       4   Would a riuall then I were, 
            Some else your secret friend,
        So much lesser should I feare,
            And not so much attend,
        Then enioy you euery one,
            Yet must I seeme your friend alone,
        Is this faire excusing,
            O no, all is abusing.
    

Thomas Campion