A Newyeeres Gift To A Gentlewoman Poem by Humfrey Gifford

If pure goodwill, not meaning ill, might boldly, might boldly,
Presume to tell his minde:
I wold not vse, in terms diffuse, thus coldly, thus coldly
To shew my selfe a friend.
But now adayes, so sinne preuailes,
That fayth decaies, and friendship fayles,
Most men are so infected with ielous musing braines,
That trust as one reiected, forsaken cleane remaines.
And thinges are constred cleane awry,
When nought was meant but honestie.


Thus much I say, as by the way, reciting, reciting,
What daunger may ensue:
Because that I suspiciously, in writing, in writing,
Doe send my minde to you.
Some will surmise, that I pretend,
By such deuice some naughtie end:
But let them speak and spare not, I force it not a beane,
For al their talke I care not, whilst guiltles I remaine.
Such as haue not transgrest the lawes,
Doe neuer feare to pleade their cause.


But now, sweete heart, it is my part, to open, to open,
The somme of mine intent:
I send this bil, for pure goodwill, in token, in token,
That former yeere is spent.
It is in deede a simple shift:
To serue in steede of newyeeres gift,
Though slenderly I make it, your pardon let mee have,
If in good part you take it, no more of you I craue:
So shall you binde mee day by day,
To pleasure you in what I may.


But I offend, such words to spend, in seeking, in seeking,
That you should pardon mee:
If oft I doe, that breedes in you, misliking, misliking,
Corrected let mee bee.
My selfe to you I yeelde and giue,
As prisoner true, whilst that I liue:
So may you be reuenged, for my presumptuous heart:
Which hath perhaps offended, to play so leawd a part,
Condemne mee to bee prisoner still,
So may you boldly worke your will.


Proceede my deere, the case is cleere, now stay not, now stay not
Giue iudgement out of hand:
If you ordaine, perpetuall paine, I way not, I way not,
Your iust decree shall stand.
And if you will award it so,
That I must now to prison go:
Your heart shall bee the prison, wherin I will abyde,
Untill by right and reason, my case bee throughly tride.
O God, how happy should I bee.
If such a gaile enclosed mee?