Fain Would I Change That Note

Fain would I change that note

To which fond Love hath charm'd me

Long, long to sing by rote

Fancying that that harm'd me

Yet when this thought doth come

'Love is the perfect sum

Of all delight!'

I have no other choice

Either for pen or voice

To sing or write.

O Love! they wrong thee much

That say thy fruit is bitter

When thy rich fruit is such

As nothing can be sweeter.

Fair house of joy and bliss

Where truest pleasure is

I do adore thee

I know thee what thou art

I serve thee with my heart

And fall before thee.