p.
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So though I languish, prest with Melancholye My verse, the strict Map of my Miserie Shall liue, to see. that, for whose want, I die.| Therefore I envie them, and doe repent That from vnhappie mee, things happie are sent; Yett as a Picture, or bare Sacrament. Accept these lynes, and if in them there bee Merite of Loue, bestow that loue on mee| Thy friend, whome thy desartes to thee enchaine Vrgd by this inexcusable occasion, Thee, and the Saint of his affection Leaving behinde, doth of both wants complaine And lett the Loue I beare to yow susteyne No blott nor Mayme, by this diuision Strong is this loue, which ties our hartes in one, And strong that Loue persude with Amarous paine, But though besides thy selfe, I leaue behinde Heauens liberall, and Earths thrice faire Sonne, Goeinge to where sterne winter, ay doth wonne, Yett loues hott fires; which Martir my sad mynde, Doe send forth scalding sighes, which haue the Art To melt all Ice, but that which walls her hart.| [CW: O thou] |
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