1 Faction that ever dwels,
In court where wits excells,
Hath set defiance.
Fortune and love hath sworne,
That they were neuer borne,
Of one aliance.
2 Fortune sweares, weakest harts,
The booke of Cupids arts
Turne with hir wheele,
Sences themselues shall prove
Venture hir place in love
Aske them that feele.
3 This discord it beget
Atheist that honour not
Nature thought good,
Fortune should ever dwell
In court where wits excell
Love keepe the wood.
4 So to the wood went I
With love to live and die
Fortune forlorne,
Experience of my youth
Made mee thinke humble truth
In desert borne.
5 My saint is deere to mee,
And Ione hir selfe is shee
Ione faier and true,
Ione that doth ever moue,
Passions of loue with loue
Fortune adiew.
