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They that in
course of heauenly spheares are skild,
To euery
planet point his sundry yeare:
in which her circles
voyage is fulfild,
as Mars in three score yeares
doth run his spheare
So since the winged God his
planet cleare,
began in me to moue, one yeare is
spent:
the which doth longer vnto me appeare,
then al those fourty which my life outwent.
Then by
that count, which louers books inuent,
the spheare
of Cupid fourty yeares containes:
which I haue
wasted in long languishment,
that seemd the longer
for my greater paines.
But let me loues fayre Planet
short her wayes
this yeare ensuing, or else short my
dayes.
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