This day sweet mistresse you to me did write,
(When for so many lynes I begg'd replyall)
That from all, hope you would not barre me quite,
Nor graunt plaine placet, nor giue dead denyall:
But in my chamber-window (while I read it)
A waspish bee flew round about me buzzing,
With fulfill'd flankes, when my tymes flower had fed it
(Which there lay strew'd) and in my necke with huzzing
She fixt her sting, then did I take her out
And in my window left her where she died:
My necke still smartes, and swelleth round about
By which her wrathes deare ransome may be tryed
A myrrour (to thee Lady) which I send
In this small schoede, with commendations tyed
Who (though the sting and anguish stay with mee)
Yet for reuenge saw her vnluckie ende.
Then note th'example of this haplesse bee,
And when to me thou doest thy sting intende
Feare some such punishment should chance to thee.