With hopes, that better seasons may bee had.
There is nor trouble, sorrow, nor distresse,
But mitigation hath, or some release.
Long use, or time, the storme away will turne,
Else, Patience makes it better to be borne.
Yea, sorrowes lowring dayes, will come and goe,
As well as prosp'rous houres of Sunshine doe;
And, when 'tis past, the paine that went before,
Will make the following pleasure seeme the more.
For, hee, hath promis'd, whom we may beleeve,