2780(Bribèd perchance by envious night to wrap
Day and his champion in his sooty lap).
So that to us appears nor sun nor day,
And only faith persuades us there is both,
Till day and sun call in each straggling ray,
And force a passage, spite of fume and froth:
Yet then the day but newly seems to dawn,
And o'er the sun a veil of cypress drawn.
Just so diseasing sorrow, armed with tears,
Sighs, and black melancholy veiled her face;