And then, I dreame, how you securely sleepe,
35And in your dreames doe laugh at me. I hate,
And pray Love, All may: He pitties my state,
But sayes, I therein no revenge should finde;
The Sunne would shine, though all the world were blind.
Yet, to trie my hate, Love shew'd me your teare;
40And I had dy'd, had not your smile beene there.
Your frowne undoes me; your smile is my wealth;
And as you please to looke, I have my health.
Me thought, Love pittying me, when he saw this,