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The paynefull
smith with force of feruent heat,
the hardest yron
soone doth mollify:
that with his heauy sledge he
can it beat,
and fashion to what he it list apply.
Yet cannot all these flames in which I fry,
her
hart more harde then yron soft awhit;
ne all the
playnts and prayers with which I
doe beat on
th'anduyle of her stubberne wit:
But still the more
she feruent sees my fit:
the more she frieseth in
her wilfull pryde:
and harder growes the harder she
is smit,
with all the playnts which to her be
applyde.
What then remaines but I to ashes burne,
and she to stones at length all frosen turne?
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