text: If love now reigned as it hath been
  And were rewarded as it hath sin,
  
  Noble men then would sure ensearch
  All ways whereby they might it reach,
  
  But envy reigneth with such disdain
  And causeth lovers outwardly to refrain,
  
  Which puts them to more and more
  Inwardly most grievous and sore.
  
  The fault in whom I cannot set,
  But let them tell which love doth get
  
  To lovers I put now sure this case:
  Which of their loves doth get them grace?
  
  And unto them which doth it know
  Better than do I, I think it so.