My love doth rage, and yet my Love doth rest; Fear in my love, and yet my Love secure; Peace in my Love, and yet my love opprest; Impatient, yet of perfect temperature. Sleep dainty Love, while I sigh for thy sake! So sleeps my Love; and yet my love doth wake. * * * * * All ye, whom love or fortune hath betrayed! All ye that dream of bliss, but live in grief! All ye whose hopes are evermore delayed! All ye whose sighs or sickness want relief! Lend ears and tears to me, most hapless man! That sings my sorrows like the dying swan! Care that consumes the heart with inward pain, Pain that presents sad care in outward view; Both, tyrant-like, enforce me to complain, But still in vain, for none my plaints will rue: Tears, sighs, and ceaseless cries alone I spend. My woe wants comfort, and my sorrow, end. * * * * * Wilt thou, Unkind! thus 'reave me Of my heart, and so leave me? Farewell! But yet, or ere I part, O Cruel! Kiss me Sweet, my Jewel! Farewell! Hope by disdain grows cheerless Fear doth love, love doth fear Beauty peerless. Farewell! If no delays can move thee! Life shall die, death shall live Still to love thee. Farewell! Yet be thou mindful ever! Heat from fire, fire from heat, None can sever. Farewell! True love cannot be changed, Though delight from desert Be estranged. Farewell! * * * * * Would my conceit that first inforced my woe, Or else mine eyes, which still the same increase, Might be extinct, to end my sorrows so; Which now are such, as nothing can release. Whose life is death; whose sweet, each change of sour; And eke whose hell reneweth every hour. Each hour, amidst the deep of hell I fry, Each hour, I waste and wither where I sit; But that sweet hour, wherein I wish to die, My hope, alas, may not enjoy it yet. Whose hope is such bereaved of the bliss, Which unto all, save me, allotted is. To all, save me, is free to live or die; To all, save me, remaineth hap or hope. But all, perforce, I must abandon! Since Fortune still directs my hap aslope; Wherefore to neither hap nor hope I trust, But to my thrals I yield: for so I must. * * * * * Come again! Sweet love doth now invite Thy graces that refrain To do me due delight; To see, to hear, to touch, to kiss, To die with thee again in sweetest sympathy! Come again! that I may cease to mourn Through thy unkind disdain! For now, left and forlorn, I sit, I sigh, I weep, I faint, I die In deadly pain, and endless misery.