THE LOVE WHICHE YS IMPRINTED IN MY SOWLE

The Love whiche ys imprinted in my sowle,
  With Bewtyes sealle and vertue fayre disguysde,
With Inward Cryes puttes forthe a bitter Rowle,
  Of huge Complayntes, that nowe yt ys despysde,

Thus thus, the more I Love, the wronge the more,
  Monstruous appeares, Long truthe receyved late,
Wrong sturres remorced greef, greefes deadly sore,
  Unkyndenes breedes, unkyndenes fostereth hate.

But ah, the more I hate, the more I thincke,
  Whome I doo hate, the more I thinck on hym,
The more his Matcheles giftes doo deepely sincke,
  Into my Brest, and Loves renewed swym,
     What Medicyn then can suche Disease remoove?
     Where Love drawes hate, and hate engendereth Love.