In the same path they yesterday did rack.
Then, like a torch turn'd downward, let the same
Desire which nourish'd it, put out your flame.
Lo! thus I do divorce thee from my breast,
10False to thy vow, and traitor to my rest!
Henceforth thy tears shall be (though thou repent)
Like pardons after execution sent.
Nor shalt thou ever my love's story read,
But as some epitaph of what is dead.
So may my hope on future blessings dwell,