"Yet, let not, poor despised heart!
Her worth ought questioned be!
Hadst thou not failèd in desert
She had not failèd thee!
But lest, perhaps, they flout thy moan,
That should esteem thee dear;
Go, make it by thyself alone,
Where none may come to hear!
"Still keep thy forehead crowned with smiles!
What Passion e'er thou try;
That none may laugh at thee, the whiles
Thou discontented lie!
And let no wrong, by change distain
A love so truly fair;
But rather, never hope again!
And thou shall ne'er despair!"
II.
O'ertired by cruel Passions that oppress me,
With heart nigh broken, Time, no hope would give me;
Upon my bed: I laid me down to rest me:
And gentle Sleep, I wooèd to relieve me.
But O, alas! I found that, on the morrow,
My sleeping Joys brought forth my waking Sorrow.
For, lo, a dream I had, so full of pleasure,
That to possess, what to embrace I seemed,
Could not effect my joy in higher measure,
Than now it grieves me, that I have but dreamed.
O let my dreams be Sighs and Tears hereafter!
So I (that sleeping, weep) may wake in laughter.
Fain would I tell how much that Shadow pleased me,
But tongue and pen want words, and art in telling;
Yet this I'll say, to shew what horror seized me
(When I was robbed of bliss, so much excelling),
Might all my dreams be such; O, let me never
Awake again! but sleep, and dream for ever!
For when I waking, saw myself deceivèd,
And what an inward hell it had procurèd:
To find myself of all my hopes bereavèd
It brought on Passions not to be endurèd.
And, knew I, next night had such dreams in keeping;
I'd make my eyes foreswear, for ever, sleeping!