|
| Excess of Ioy, would wake me, and camst then, [f. 98] |
| I doe confesse it could not chuse but be |
| Profanenes, to thinke thee, any thing but thee.| |
|
| Comming and staying shewd thee thee, |
| But rising makes me doubt it now, |
| Thou art not thou. |
| That love is weake, when feares as strong as he |
| Tis not all spiritt, pure, and brave |
| If mixture it of feare, shame honor haue |
| Perchance as torches, wch must ready be, |
| Men light and put out, so thou dealst with me, |
| Thou Camest to kindle, goest to come, Thus I |
| Will dreame that hope againe, but else will die.| |
|
| A Valediction, |
|
| Lett me poore forth |
| My teares, before thy face, whilest I stay here, |
| For thy face Coines them, and thy stampe they beare |
| And by this Mintage, they are something worth, |
| For thus they be |
| Pregnant of thee. |
| Fruites of much greif they are, Embleames of more |
| When a teare falls, that thou falls, wch it bore |
| So thou and I are nothing then, when on a diverse shore.
|
[CW: On] |