When my abodes prefixed time is spent,
    My cruell fayre streight bids me wend my way:
    but then from heaven most hideous stormes are sent
    as willing me against her will to stay.
Whom then shall I or heaven or her obay?
    the heavens know best what is the best for me:
    but as she will, whose will my life doth sway,
    my lower heaven, so it perforce must bee.
But ye high hevens, that all this sorowe see,
    sith all your tempests cannot hold me backe:
    aswage your stormes, or else both you and she,
    will both together me too sorely wrack.
Enough it is for one man to sustaine
    the stormes, which she alone on me doth raine.