But thou (more hard than Steele or Marble is)
Doost scorne my Teares, and my true loue disdaine,
Which for thy sake shall euerlasting bee,
Wrote in the Annalls of Eternitie.
By this, the Night (with darknes ouer-spred)
Had drawne the curtaines of her cole-blacke bed;
And Cynthia muffling her face with a clowd,
(Lest all the world of her should be too prowd)
Had taken Conge of the sable Night,
(That wanting her cannot be halfe so bright;)