My hope, alas, hath me abused

LXXXVIII

My hope, alas, hath me abused
And vain rejoicing hath me fed.
Lust and joy have me refused
And careful plaint is in their stead.
Too much advancing slacked my speed,
Mirth hath caused my heaviness,
And I remain all comfortless.

Whereto did I assure my thought
Without displeasure steadfastly?
In Fortune's forge my joy was wrought
And is revolted readily.
I am mistaken wonderly:
For I thought naught but faithfulness
Yet I remain all comfortless.

In gladsome cheer I did delight
Till that delight did cause my smart
And all was wrong where I thought right:
For right it was that my true heart
Should not from truth be set apart
Since truth did cause my hardiness;
Yet I remain all comfortless.

Sometime delight did tune my song
And led my heart full pleasantly;
And to myself I said among,
" My hap is coming hastily."
But it hath happed contrary:
Assurance caused my distress
And I remain all comfortless.

Then if my note now do vary
And leave his wonted pleasantness,
The heavy burden that I carry
Hath altered all my joyfulness.
No pleasure hath still steadfastness,
But haste hath hurt my happiness
And I remain all comfortless.
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