If my scorch'd heart wither through thy delay,
10Thy beauty withers too. And swift decay
Arrests thy youth. So thou whilst I am slighted
Wilt be too soon with age or sorrow nighted.
When I entreat, &c.] 6 'E-ven-ing'.
To a Lady who sent me a copy of verses at my
going to bed.
Lady, your art or wit could ne'er devise
To shame me more than in this night's surprise.
Why, I am quite unready, and my eye