LAURA.
THE SECOND PART.
I.
IF I somewhile look up into the Skies, I see, fair Lady, that same cheerful light; Which, like to you, doth shine in glorious wise: And if on th' Earth, I chance to cast my sight; The moveless centre firm to me doth show The hardness which within your heart doth grow. If Seas I view, the flowing waves most plain Your fickle faith do represent to me. So as I still behold you, to my pain; When as the Skies, or th' Earth, or Seas I see: For in your seemly self doth plain appear Like faith; like hardness; and like brightness clear.
II.
MArvel I do not, though thou dost not see My griefs and martyrs; which I still sustain. For thou, the Mole of Love dost seem to me; But if a Mole, th' art only to my pain. How comes it then that, seeing thou art blind, Thou me consum'st, as if thou had'st thy sight? Why, as thy nature by instinct doth bind, Stayest not below? Pack hence, and leave this light! Either those eyes still shut, not me to grieve; Or under ground, in darkness, always live!