p.
| |
Yesternight the Sun went hence; and yett is here to daie Hee hath no desire nor sence, nor halfe soe short a waie: Then feare nott mee But beliue that I shall make speedier iournies, since I take More wings and spurrs then hee. O how feeble is mans power, that if good fortune fall, Cannot add one howre, nor a lost howre recall: But come badd chance, And wee ioyne to itt our strength, and wee teach it art and length It selfe ore vs to advance When thou sighst, thou sighst not winde. but sighst my Soule away When thou weepst vnkyndlie kinde, My lifes blood doth decay Itt cannott bee That thou loust mee, as thou saist, If in thine my life doth waste Thou art the best of mee. Lett not thy deuininge hart fore thinke mee any ill: Destinye may take thy part, And may thy feares fullfill. But think that wee Are but tvrnd aside to sleepe: They who one another keepe Aliue, nere parted bee.| Goe and catch a falling starre, Gett with childe a Mandrake roote Tell mee where all past yeares are, Or who cleft the Diuells foote: Teach mee to heare Mermaydes singinge Or too keepe of Envies stinging, And finde Whatt wynde Serues to aduance an honest minde. |
 |