Fidelia. Newly corrected and augmented, by George Withers of Lincolnes Inne Gentleman

An Elegiacall Epistle of Fidelia to her vnconstant Friend . THE ARGVMENT .

This Elegiacall Epistle , being a fragment of some greater Poeme , discouers the modest affections of a discreet and constant woman , shadowed vnder the name of Fidelia ; wherein you may perceiue the height of their passions , so farre as they seeme to agree with reason , and keepe within such decent bounds as beseemeth their sexe , but further it meddles not . The occasion seemes to proceed from some mutability in her friend ; whose obiections shee here presupposing , confuteth , and in the person of him , iustly vpbraideth all that are subiect to the like change , or ficklenesse in minde . Among the rest some more weighty Arguments then are ( perhaps ) expected in such a subiect , are briefly , and yet somewhat seriously handled .

OFt I heard tell , and now for truth I finde , Once out of sight , and quickly out of minde . And that it hath beene rightly said of old , Loue that 's soon'st hot , is euer soonest cold . Or else my teares at this time had not stain'd The spotlesse paper , nor my lines complain'd . I had not now beene forced to haue sent These for the Nuncio's of my discontent ; Or thus exchanged , so vnhappily , My songs of mirth , to write an Elegie . But now I must ; and since I must doe so , Let me but craue thou wilt not flout my woe : Nor entertaine my sorrowes with a scoffe , But at least read them , er'e thou cast them off . And though thy heart 's too hard to haue compassion , If thou l't not pitty , doe not blame my Passion . For well thou know'st ( alas that er'e 't was knowne ) There was a time ( although that time be gone ) I , that for this , scarce dare a beggar bee , Presum'd for more to haue commanded thee . Yea the Day was ( but see how things may change ) When thou and I haue not beene halfe so strange ; But oft embraced with a gentle greeting , And no worse words than Turtle . Doue , or Sweeting . Yea had thy meaning , and those vowes of thine , Prou'd but as faithfull , and as true as mine , It still had beene so : ( for I doe not faine ) I should reioyce it might be so againe . But sith thy Loue growes cold , and thou vnkinde , Be not displeas'd I somewhat breath my minde , I am in hope my words may proue a mirror , Whereon thou looking , may'st behold thine error . And yet the Heauen , and my sad heart doth know , How grieu'd I am , and with what feeling woe My minde is tortured , to thinke that I Should be the brand of thy disloyalty : Or liue , to be the author of a line , That shall be tainted with a fault of thine ; ( Since if that thou but slightly touched be , Deepe wounds of griefe , and shame , it strikes in me ) And yet I must ; ill hap compels me to What I nere thought to haue cause to doe . And therefore seeing that some angry Fate Imposes on me , what I so much hate : Or since it is so , that the Powers divine Me miserable , to such cares assigne ; Oh that Loues patron , or some sacred Muse Amongst my Passions , would such Art infuse , My well-fram'd words , and aiery sighes might proue , The happy blasts to re-inflame thy loue . Or at least touch thee with thy fault so neere , That thou mightst see thou wrongd'st , who held thee deere : Seeing , confesse the same , and so abhorre it ; Abhorring , pitty , and repent thee for it . But ( Deare ) I hope that I may call thee so , For thou art deare to me , although a foe ; Tell me , is 't true that I doe heare of thee , And by thy absence now , so seemes to bee ? Can such abuse be in thy Court of Loue , False and inconstant now , thou Hee shouldst proue ? He that so wofull , and so pensiue sate , Vowing his seruice at my feete of late ? Art thou that quondam lover , whose sad eye I never saw yet , in my presence dry ? And from whose gentle-seeming tongue I know So many pitty-moving words could flow ? Was 't thou so soughtst my loue , so seeking that As if it had beene all th' hadst aymed at ; Making me thinke thy Passion without staine , And gently quite thee with my loue againe : With this perswasion I so fairely plac'd it , Nor Time , nor Enuie should haue er'e defac'd it ▪ Is 't so ? haue I done thus much ? and art thou So over-cloyed with my favours now ? Art wearied since with loving , and estranged So far ? Is thy affection so much changed , That I of all my hopes must be deceaved , And all good thoughts of thee , be quite bereaved ? Then I finde true , which long before this day , I fear'd my selfe , and heard some wiser say ; That there is nought on earth so sweet , that can Long relish with the curious taste of Man . Happy was I ; yea well it was with me , Before I came to be bewitch't by thee . I ioy'd the sweet'st content that ever Mayd Possessed yet ; and truely well-a-paid , Made to my selfe alone , as pleasant mirth As euer any Virgin did , on earth . The melody I vs'd was free , and such , As that Bird makes , whom never hand did touch , But vn-allur'd with Fowlers , whistling flies Aboue the reach of humane treacheries . And well I do remember , often then Could I read or'e the policies of men , Discover what vncertainties they were , How they would sigh , looke sad , protest , and sweare , Nay faigne to die , when they did never proue The slendrest touch of a right worthy loue : But had chil'd hearts , whose dulnesse vnderstood No more of Passion , then they did of good . All which I noted well , and in my minde ( A generall humor amongst women-kinde ) This vow I made ; ( thinking to keepe it than ) That never the faire tongue of any man , Nor his complaint , though never so much grieu'd , Should moue my heart to liking whil'st I liu'd . But who can say what she shall liue to doe ? I haue beleeu'd , and let in liking too , And that so farre , I cannot yet see how I may so much as hope , to helpe it now ; Which makes me thinke , what e're we women say , Another minde will come , another day : And that men may to things vnhop't for clime , Who watch but Opportunity and Time . For 't is well knowne , we were not made of clay , Or such course , and ill-temper'd stuffe as they , For he that fram'd vs of their flesh , did daigne When 't was at best , to new refine 't againe . Which makes vs ever since the kinder Creatures , Of farre more flexible , and yeelding Natures . And as we oft excell in outward parts , So we haue nobler , and more gentle hearts . Which you well knowing , daily doe devise How to imprint on them your Cruelties . But doe I finde my cause thus bad indeed ? Or else on things imaginary feed ? Am I the lasse that late so truly iolly , Made my selfe merry oft , at others folly ? Am I the Nymph that Cupids fancies blam'd , That was so cold , so hard to be inflam'd ? Am I my selfe ? or is my selfe that Shee Who from this Thraldome , or such falshoods free , Late own'd mine owne heart , and full merry then , Did fore-warne others to beware of Men , And could not , hauing taught them what to doe , Now learne my selfe , to take heed of you too ? Foole that I am ; I feare my guerdon's iust , In that I knew this , and presum'd to trust . And yet ( alas ) for ought that I could tell , One sparke of goodnesse in the world might dwell . And then I thought , if such a thing might be , Why might not that one sparke remaine in thee ? For thy faire ou-tside , and thy fairer tongue , Promised much although thy yeares were yong . And Vertue , wheresoever she be now , Seem'd them to sit enthron'd vpon thy brow . Yea sure it was ; but whether 't were or no , Certaine I am I was perswaded so , Which made me loth to thinke that words of fashion Could be so fram'd , so over-laid with Passion , Or sighes so feeling fain'd from any brest ; Nay say thou hadst been false in all the rest , Yet from thine eye my heart such notice tooke , Me thought guile could not faine so sad a looke . But now I 'ue try'd , my bought experience knowes , They are oft worst that make the fairest showes . And howsoe're men faine an outward grieving , 'T is neither worth respecting , nor belieuing , For she that doth one to her mercie take , Warmes in her bosome but a frozen snake : Which heated with her favours , gathers sence , And stings her to the heart in recompence . But tell me why , and for what secret spight You in poore womens miseries delight : For so it seemes ; else why d' yee labour for That , which when 't is obtain'd , you doe ahhor ? Or to what end doe you endure such paine To winne our loue , and cast it off againe ? Oh that we either your hard hearts could borrow , Or else your strengths to helpe vs beare our sorrow ! But we are cause of all this griefe and shame , And we haue none but our owne selues to blame : For still we see your falshoods for our learning , Yet neuer can haue power to tak 't for warning ; But as if borne to be deluded by you , We know you trustlesse , and yet still we try you . ( Alas ) what wrong was in my power to doe thee ? Or what despight haue I e're done vnto thee ? That thou shouldst choose Me , aboue all the rest , To be thy scorne , and thus be made a iest . Must mens ill natures such true villains proue them , To make them only wrong those most that loue them ? Couldst thou finde none in Countrey , Towne nor Court , But onely Me , to make thy Foole , thy sport ? Thou knowst I haue no wanton courses runne , Nor seemed easie vnto lewdnesse wonne . And though I cannot boast me of much wit , Thou saw'st no signe of fondnesse in me yet . Nor did ill nature euer so ore sway me , To flout at any that did woe or pray me . But grant I had beene guilty of abusage , Of thee I 'me sure I ner'e deseru'd such vsage . But thou wer 't grieved to behold my smilings , When I was free from loue , and thy beguilings . Or to what purpose else , didst thou bestow Thy time , and study to delude me so ? Hast thou good parts ? and dost thou bend them all To bring those that ner'e hated thee in thrall ? Pretheee take heed , although thou yet enioy'st them They 'l be tooke from thee , if thou so imploy'st them . For though I wish not the least harme to thee , I feare , the iust Heavens will revenged be . Oh! what of Mee by this time had become , If my desires with thine had hapt to rome , Or I , vnwisely had consented to What ( shamelesse ) once thou didst attempt to doe ? I might haue falne , by those immodest trickes , Had not some power beene stronger then my Sex . And if I should haue so beene drawne to folly , I saw thee apt enough to be vnholy . Or if my weaknesse had beene prone to sinne , I poorely by thy strength had succour'd bin . You Men make vs beleeue you doe but try , And that 's your part ( you say ) ours to deny . Yet I much feare , if we through frailty stray , There 's few of you within your bounds will stay ; But , maugre all your seeming Vertue , bee As ready to forget your selues , as we . I might haue fear'd thy part of loue not strong , When thou didst offer me so base a wrong . And that I after loath'd thee not , did proue In me some extraordinary Loue . For sure had any other , but in thought , Presum'd vnworthily what thou hast sought , Might it appeare , I should doe thus much for him , With a scarce reconeiled hate abhorre him . My yong experience never yet did know Whether desire might range so farre , or no , To make true Louers carelesly request , What rash enioying makes them most vnblest , Or blindly , thorow frailty giue consenting To that , which done brings nothing but repenting . But in my iudgement it doth rather proue That thou art fir'd with lust , then warm'd with loue . And if it be for proofemen so proceed , It shewes a doubt , else what do trials need ? And where is that man living ever knew That false distrust , could be with loue that 's true ? Since the meere cause of that vnblam'd effect , Such an opinion is , as hates suspect . And yet I will thee , and thy loue excuse , If thou wilt neither me , nor mine abuse . For I l'e suppose thy passion made thee proffer That vnto me , thou to none else wouldst offer . And so , thinke thou ; if I haue thee deni'd , Whom I more lou'd then all men else beside . What hope haue they , such favours to obtaine , That never halfe so much respect could gaine ? Such was my loue that I did value thee Aboue all things below eternitie . Nothing on Earth vnto my heart was nearer , No joy so prized , nor no jewell dearer . Nay : I doe feare I did Idolatrize , For which Heavens wrath inflicts these miseries , And makes the things which it for blessings sent , To be renewers of my discontent . Where was there any of the Naiades , The Dryades , or the Hamadryades ? Which of the Brittish shires can yeeld againe , A mistresse of the Spring , or Wood , or Plaine ? Whose eye enioy'd more sweet contents then mine , Till I receiu'd my ouerthrow by thine ? Where 's she did more delight in Springs and Rils ? Where 's she that walk'd more Groues , or Downes , or Hils ? Or could by such faire artlesse prospects , more Adde by conceit , to her contentments store Then I ; whilst thou wert true , and with thy Gracēs Didst giue a pleasing presence to those places ? But now What is ; What was hath ouerthrowne , My Rose-deckt allies , now with Rue are strowne ; And from those flowers that honied vse to be , I sucke nought now but iuyce to poyson me . For eu'n as she , whose gentle spirit can rise To apprehend Loues noble mysteries , Spying a precious Iewell richly set , Shine in some corner of her Cabinet , Taketh delight at first to gaze vpon The pretty lustre of the sparkling stone , And pleas'd in minde , by that doth seeme to see How vertue shines through base obscuritie ; But prying neerer , seeing it doth proue Some relique of her deere deceased Loue , Which to her sad remembrance doth lay ope , What she most sought , and sees most far from hope : Fainting almost beneath her Passions weight , And quite forgetfull of her first conceit : Looking vpon 't againe , from thence shee borrowes Sad melancholy thoughts to feed her sorrowes . So I beholding Natures curious bowers , Seel'd , strow'd , and trim'd vp with leaues , hearbs , and flowers . Walke pleased on a while , and do devize How on each obiect I may moralize , But er'e I pace on many steps , I see There stands a Hawthorne that was trim'd by thee : Here thou didst once slip off the virgin spraies , To crowne me with a wreath of living Bayes . On such a Banke , I see how thou didst lye , When viewing of a shady Mulbery , The hard mishap thou didst to me discusse Of loving Thysbe , and yong Piramus : And oh ( thinke I ) how pleasing was it then , Or would be yet , might he returne agen . But if some neighbouring Row do draw me to Those Arbors , where the shadowes seeme to wooe The weary loue-sicke Passenger , to sit And view the beauties Nature strowes on it : How faire ( thinke I ) would this sweet place appeare , If he I loue , were sporting with me here ! Nay , euery seuerall obiect that I see , Doth severally ( me thinks ) remember thee . But the delight I vs'd from it to gather , I now exchange for cares , and seeke them rather . But those whose dull and grosse affections can Extend but onely to desire a Man , Cannot the depth of these rare Passions know : For their imaginations flagge too low ; And cause their base Conceits do apprehend Nothing but that whereto the flesh doth tend ; In Loues embraces they nere reach vnto More of content than the brute Creatures do . Neither can any iudge of this , but such Whose braver minds for braver thoughts do touch . And having spirits of a nobler frame , Feele the true heat of Loues vnquenched flame . They may conceiue aright what smarting sting To their Remembrances the place will bring , Where they did once enioy , and then doe misse , What to their soules most deere and pretious is . With me 't is so ; for those walkes that once seem'd Pleasing , when I of thee was more esteem'd , To me appeare most desolate and lonely , And are the places now of torment onely . Where I the highest of contents did borrow , There am I paid it home with treble sorrow . Vnto one place I doe remember well , We walkt the eu'nings to heare Phylomell : And that seemes now to want the light it had : The shadow of the Grou's more dull and sad ▪ As if it were a place but fit for Fowles That screech ill ▪ lucke ; as melancholy Owles , Or fatall Rauens , that seld ' boding good , Croke their blacke Auguries from some darke wood . Then if from thence I halfe despairing go , Another place begins another wo : For thus vnto my thought it seemes to say , Hither thou saw'st him riding once that way ; Thither to meete him thou didst nimbly hast thee , Yon he alighted , and eu'n there embrac'd thee : Which whilst I sighing wish to doe againe , Another obiect brings another paine ; For passing by that Greene , which ( could it speake ) Would tell it saw vs runne at Barly-breake ; There I beheld , what on a thin rin'd tree Thou hadst engrauen for the loue of mee ; When we two , all alone , in heate of day , With chaste embraces draue swift houres away : Then I remember too , vnto my smart , How loath we were , when time compel'd , to part ; How cunningly thy Passions thou could'st faine , In taking leaue , and comming backe againe : So oft , vntill ( as seeming to forget We were departing ) downe againe we set ; And freshly in that sweet discourse went on , Which now I almost faint to thinke vpon . Viewing againe those other Walkes , and Groues That haue beene witnesses of our chaste loues ; When I behold those Trees whose tender skin Hath that cut out , which still cuts me within . Or come by chance , vnto that pretty Rill Where thou wouldst sit , & teach the neighboring Hill To answer in an Eccho vnto those Rare Problems which thou often didst propose . When I come there ( thinke I ) if these could take That vse of words and speech which we partake , They might vnfold a thousand pleasures then Which I shall neuer liue to taste agen : And therevpon Remembrance doth so racke My thoughts , with representing what I lacke , That in my minde those Clerkes do argue well , Which hold Priuation the great'st plague of hell . For there 's no torment gripes me halfe so bad , As the Remembrance of those ioyes I had . Oh hast thou quite forgot , when sitting by The bankes of Thame , beholding how the Fry Play'd on the siluer waues ? There where I first Granted to make my Fortune thus accurst ; There where thy too-too earnest suite compeld My ouer-soone beleeuing heart to yeeld One fauour first , which then another drew To get another , till ( alas ) I rue That day and houre , thinking I nere should need ( As now ) to grieue for doing such a deed . So freely I my curtesies bestow'd That whose I was vnwarily I show'd , And to my heart such passage made for thee , Thou canst not to this day remoued be , And what breast could resist it , having seene How true thy loue had in appearance beene . For I shall ner'e forget , when thou hadst there Laid open euery discontent and care , Wherewith thou deeply seemd'st to me opprest , When thou ( as much as any could protest ) Had'st vow'd and sworne , and yet perceiu'dst no signe Of pitty-mouing in this brest of mine : Well Loue ( said'st thou ) since neither sigh nor vow , Nor any seruice may preuaile me now : Since neither the recitall of my smart , Nor those strong Passions that assaile my heart , Nor any thing may moue thee to beleefe Of these my sufferings , or to grant releefe : Since there 's no comfort , nor desert , that may Get me so much as Hope of what I pray ; Sweet Loue farewell , farewell faire beauties light , And euery pleasing obiect of the sight : My poore despairing heart here biddeth you , And all Content , for euermore adue . Then eu'n as thou seemd'st ready to depart ; Reaching that hand , which after gaue my heart , ( And thinking this sad Farewell did proceed , From a sound brest , but truely mou'd indeed ) I staied thy departing from me so , Whilst I stood mute with sorrow , thou for show . And the meane while as I beheld thy looke , My eye th' impression of such Pitty tooke , That , with the strength of Passion ouercome , A deepe fetch 't sigh my heart came breathing from : Whereat thou ( euer wisely vsing this To take aduantage when it offered is ) Renewd'st thy sute to me , who did afford Consent , in silence first , and then in word . So that for yeelding thou maist thanke thy wit : And yet when euer I remember it , Trust me , I muse , and often , wondring , thinke Thorough what craney , or what secret chinke That Loue vnwares , so like a slye close Elfe , Did to my heart insinuate it selfe . Gallants I had , before thou cam'st to woo , Could as much loue , and as well court me too ; And though they had not learned so the fashion , Of acting such well-counterfeited Passion ; In wit , and person , they did equall thee , And worthier seem'd , vnlesse thou 'lt faithfull bee . Yet still vnmou'd , vnconquer'd I remain'd , No , not one thought of loue was entertain'd : Nor could they brag of the least fauour to them , Saue what meere courtesie enioyn'd to do them . Hard was my heart : But would 't had harder bin , And then , perhaps , I had not let thee in , Thou Tyrant , that art so imperious there , And onely tak'st delight to Dominere . But held I out such strong , such oft assailing , And euer kept the honour of preuailing ? Was this poore breast from loues allurings free , Cruell to all , and gentle vnto thee ? Did I vnlocke that strong affections dore , That neuer could be broken ope before , Onely to thee ? and at thy intercession So freely giue vp all my hearts possession : That to my selfe I left not one poore veine , Nor power , nor will to put thee from 't againe ? Did I do this , and all on thy bare vow , And wilt thou thus requite my kindnesse now ? Oh that thou either hadst not learn'd to faine , Or I had power to cast thee off againe ! How is it that thou art become so rude , And ouer-blinded by Ingratitude ? Swearst thou so deeply that thou wouldst perseuer , That I might thus be cast away for euer ? Well , then t is true that Louers periuries , Among some men , are thought no iniuries : And that she , onely , hath least cause of griefe , Who of your words hath smalst , or , no beliefe . Had I the wooer bin , or fondly woon , This had bin more tho , then thou couldst haue don ; But neither being so , what Reason is On thy side , that should make thee offer this ? I know , had I beene false , or my faith faild , Thou wouldst at womens ficklenesse haue raild : And if in me it had an error bin , In thee shall the same fault be thought no sin ? Rather I hold that which is bad in mee , Will be a greater blemish vnto thee ; Because by Nature thou art made more strong , And therefore abler to endure a wrong . But t is our Fortune , you 'l haue all the power , Onely the Care , and Burthen must be our . Nor can you be content a wrong to do , Vnlesse you lay the blame vpon vs too . Oh that there were some gentle-minded Poet That knew my heart , as well as now I know it ; And would endeare me to his loue so much , To giue the world ( though but ) a slender rouch Of that sad Passion which now clogs my heart , And shew my truth , and thee how false thou art : That all might know , what is beleeu'd by no man , Ther 's ficklenesse in men , and faith in woman . Thou sawst I first let Pitty in , then liking , And lastly that which was thy onely seeking ; And when I might haue scornd that loue of thine , ( As now vngently thou despisest mine , ) Among the inmost Angles of my brest : To lodge it by my heart I thought it best : Which thou hast stolne too like a thankelesse Mate , And left me nothing but a blacke selfe-hate . What canst thou say for this , to stand contending ? What colour hast thou left for thy offending ? That wit , perhaps , hath some excuse in store , Or an euasion to escape a sore . But well I know , if thou excuse this treason , It must be by some greater thing then reason . Are any of those Vertues yet defac'd , On which thy first affection seemed plac'd ? Hath any secret foe my true faith wronged , To rob the blisse that to my heart belonged ? What then ? shall I condemned be vnheard , Before thou knowest how I may be clear'd ? Thou art acquainted with the times condition , Know'st it is full of enuy , and suspition , So that the war'est in thought , word , and action , Shall be most iniur'd by foule-mouth'd detraction : And therefore thou , me-thinks , should'st wisely pause Before thou credit rumors without cause . But I haue gotten such a confidence In thy opinion , of my innocence : It is not that , I know , with-holds thee now : Sweet , tell me then ; is it some sacred vow ? Hast thou resolued , not to ioyne thy hand With any one in Hymens holy band ? Thou shouldst haue done it then , when thou wert free , Before thou hadst bequeath'd thy selfe to mee . What vow dost deeme more pleasing vnto Heauen , Then what is by vnfaigned louers giuen ? If any be , yet sure it frowneth at Those that are made for contradicting that . But if thou wouldst liue chastely all thy life , That thou maist do , though we be man and wife : Or if thou long'st a Virgin-death to die , Why , if it be thy pleasure , so do I. Make me but thine , and I 'le ( contented ) bee A Virgin still , yet liue and lie with thee . Then let not thy inuenting braine assay To mocke , and still delude me euery way ; But call to minde , how thou hast deeply sworne Nor to neglect , nor leaue me thus forlorne . And if thou wilt not be to me as when We first did loue , do but come see me then ; Vouchsafe that I may sometime with thee walke , Or sit and looke on thee , or heare thee talke ; And I , that most content once aimed at , Will thinke there is a world of blisse in that . Dost thou suppose that my Desires denies With thy affections well to sympathize ? Or such peruersnesse hast thou found in me , May make our Natures disagreeing be ? Thou know'st when thou didst wake I could not sleep And if thou wert but sad , that I should weep . Yet euen when the teares my cheeke did staine If thou didst smile , why I could smile againe : I neuer did contrary thee in ought : Nay , thou canst tell , I oft haue spake thy thought . Waking ; the selfe-same course with thee I runne , And sleeping , oftentimes our dreames were one . The Dyall needle , though it sence doth want , Still bends to the beloued Adamant , Lift the one vp , the other vpward tends ; If this fall downe , that presently descends : Turne but about the stone , the steele turnes too ; Then straight returnes , if but the other do ; And if it stay , with trembling keepes one place , As if it panting long'd for an imbrace . So was 't with me : for if thou merry wer't , That mirth of thine , mou'd ioy within my heart : I sighed too , when thou didst sigh , or frowne ; When thou wer 't sick , thou hast perceiu'd me swoone ; And being sad , haue oft , with forc'd delight , Striu'd to giue thee content , beyond my might . When thou wouldst talk , then haue I talk'd with thee , And silent been , when thou wouldst silent be . If thou abroad didst goe , with joy I went ; If home thou lou'dst , at home was my content : Yea , what did to my Nature disagree , I could make pleasing , cause it pleased thee . But if 't be either my weake Sexe , or youth , Makes thee misdoubt my vndistained truth , Know this ; as none till that vnhappy hower , When I was first made thine , had euer power To moue my heart , by vowes , or teares expence , No more , I sweare , could any Creature since . No lookes but thine , though aim'd with Passions Art , Could pierce so deepe to penetrate my hart . No name but thine , was welcome to my eare , No word did I so soone , so gladly heare : Nor neuer could my eyes behold or see , What I was since delighted in , but thee . And sure thou wouldst beleeue it to he so , If I could tell , or words might make thee know , How many a wearie night my tumbled bed Hath knowne me sleeplesse : what salt teares I 'ue shed , What scalding sighes , the markes of soules opprest , Haue hourely breathed from my carefull brest : Nor wouldst thou deem those waking sorrowes fain'd If thou might'st see how sleeping I am pain'd . For if sometimes I chance to take a slumber , Vnwelcome dreames my broken rest doth cumber , Which dreaming makes me start , starting with feares Wakes ; and so waking I renew my cares : Vntill my eyes ore-tir'd with watch and weeping , Drownd in their owne flouds , fall againe to sleeping . Oh! that thou couldst but thinke , when last we parted , How much I , grieuing for thy absence , smarted . My very soule fell sicke , my heart to aking , As if they had their last Farewels been taking ; Or feared by some secret Diuination , This thy revolt , and causelesse alteration . Didst thou not feele how loth that hand of mine , Was to let go the hold it had of thine ? And with what heauy , what vnwilling looke , I leaue of thee , and then of comfort tooke ? I know thou didst ; and though now thus thou doe , I am deceiu'd , but then it grieu'd thee too . Then , if I so with Loues fell passion vext For thy departure onely was perplext , When I had left to strengthen me some trust , And hope , that thou would'st ne're haue prou'd vniust : What was my torture then and hard endurance , When of thy falshood I receiu'd assurance . Alas , my tongue , a while , with griefe was dumbe , And a cold shuddering did my ioynts benumme , Amazement seiz'd my thought , and so preuailed , I found me ill , but knew not what I ayled ; Nor can I yet tell , since my suffering then Was more then could be showne by Poets pen ; Or well conceiu'd by any other hart Then that which in such care hath borne a part . Oh me ; how loath was I to haue beleeu'd That to be true , for which so much I grieu'd ? How gladly would I haue perswaded bin There had bin no such matter , no such sin . I would haue had my heart thinke that ( I knew To be the very truth ) not to be true . Why may not this , thought I , some vision be , Some sleeping dreame , or waking phantasie Begotten by my ouer-blinded folly , Or else engendred through my Melancholy ? But finding it so reall ( thought I ) then Must I be cast from all my hopes agen ? What are become of all those fading blisses , Which late my hope had , and now so much misses ? Where is that future fickle happinesse Which I so long expected to possesse ? And thought I too ; where are his dying Passions , His honied words , his bitter lamentations ? To what end were his Sonnets , Epigrams , His pretty Posies , witty Anagrams ? I could not thinke , all that might haue been fain'd , Nor any faith , I thought so firme , bin stain'd : Nay , I do sure and confidently know : It is not possible it should be so : If that rare Art and Passion was thine owne , Which in my presence thou hast often showne . But since thy change , my much presaging heart Is halfe afrai'd , thou some impostor wer 't : Or that thou didst but ( Player-like addrest ) Act that which flow'd from some more gentle brest . Thy puft inuention , with worse matter swolne , Those thy conceits from better wits hath stolne : Or else I know it could not be , that thou Shouldst be so ouer-cold as thou art now ; Since those , who haue that feelingly their owne , Euer possesse more worth conceal'd , then knowne . And if Loue euer any Mortals touch , To make a braue impression , 't is in such , Who sworne loues Chaplaines , will not violate That , whereunto themselues they consecrate . But oh you noble brood , on whom the world The slighted burthen of neglect hath hurl'd , ( Because your thoughts for higher obiects borne , Their groueling humors and affections scorne ) You whom the Gods , to heare your straines , will follow , Whilst you do court the sisters of Apollo . You whom there 's none that s worthy , can neglect , Or any that vnworthy is , affect : Do not let those that seeke to doe you shame , Bewitch vs with those songs they cannot frame : The noblest of our Sexe , and fairest too , Doe euer loue and honour such as you . Then wrong vs not so much to giue your Passion To those that haue it but in imitation : And in their dull breasts neuer feele the power Of such deepe thoughts as sweetly moue in your . As well as you , they vs thereby abuse , For ( many times ) when we our Louers chuse , Where we thinke Nature that rich Iowell sets Which shines in you , we light on counterfets . But see , see whither discontentment beares me , And to what vncoth straines my Passion reares me : Yet pardon me , I here againe repent , If I haue erred through that discontent . Be what thou wilt , be counterfeit or right , Be constant , serious , or be vaine , or light , My loue remaines inviolate the same , Thou canst be nothing that can quench this flame , But it will burne as long as thou hast breath To keepe it kindled ( if not after death ) Ne're was there one more true , then I to thee And though my faith must now despised be , Vnpriz'd , vnualued at the lowest rate ; Yet this I le tell thee , 't is not all thy state , Nor all that better-seeming worth of thine , Can buy thee such another Loue as mine : Liking it may , but oh there 's as much oddes , Twixt loue and that , as betweene men and Gods : And 't is a purchase not procur'd with treasure , As some fooles think , nor to be gain'd at pleasure . For were it so , and any could assure it , What would not some men part with , to procure it ? But though thou weigh't not , as thou oughtst to doe , Thou knowst I loue , and once didst loue me too . Then where 's the cause of this dislike in thee ? Suruey thy selfe , I hope there 's none in me . Yet looke on her from whom thou art estranged ? See ; is my person , or my beauty changed ? Once thou didst praise it , prethee view 't agen , And marke if 't be not still the same 't was then : No false Uermilion ▪ dye my cheeke distaines , T is the poore blood dispierst through pores & vaines ; Which thou hast oft seen through my forehead flushing , To shew no dawby colour hid my blushing : Nor neuer shall : Vertue , I hope , will saue me , Contented with that beauty Nature gaue me : Or if 't seeme lesse , for that griefes ve●se hath hid it , Thou threw'st it on me , 't was not I that did it , And canst againe restore , what may repaire All that 's decay'd , and make me far more faire : Which if thou do , I 'le be more wary than To keep 't for thee vnblemisht , what I can ; And cause at best 't will want much of perfection , The rest shall be supply'd with true affection . But I do feare , it is some others riches , Whose more aboundance that thy minde bewitches , So that base obiect , that too generall aime , Makes thee my lesser Fortune to disclaime . Fye , canst thou so degenerate in spirit , As to prefer the meanes before the merit ? Although I cannot say it is in me , Such worth sometimes with pouerty may be To equalize the match she takes vpon her ; Tho th' other vaunt of Birth , Wealth , Beauty , Honour : And many a one that did for greatnesse wed , Would gladly change it for a meaner bed . Yet are my Fortunes knowne indifferent , Not basely meane , but such as may content : And though I yeeld the better to be thine , I may be bold to say thus much , for mine ; That if thou couldst of them and me esteeme , Neither thy state , nor birth , would mis-beseeme : Or if it did ; how can I help't ( alas ! ) Thou , not alone , before knew'st what it was . But I ( although not fearing so to speed ) Did also disinable't more than need , And yet thou woo'dst , and wooing didst perseuer , As if thou hadst intended Loue for euer : Yea , thy account of wealth thou mad'st so small , Thou had'st not any question of 't at all ; But hating much that peasant-like condition , Did'st seeme displeas'd I held it in suspition , Whereby I thinke , if nothing else do thwart vs , It cannot be the want of that will part vs . Yea , I do rather doubt indeed , that this The needlesse feare of friends displeasure is ; That is the barre that stops out my delight , And all my hope and joy confoundeth quite . But beares there any in thy heart such sway To shut me thence , and wipe thy loue away ? Can there be any friend that hath the power , To disvnite hearts so conioyn'd as our ? E're I would haue so done by thee ; I 'de rather Haue parted with one deerer then my father . For though the will of our Creator binds Each child to learne and know his parents minds , Yet sure I am , so iust a Deity . Commandeth nothing against Piety . Nor doth that band of duty giue them leaue , To violate their faith , or to deceiue . And though that Parents haue authority , To rule their children in minority ; Yet they are neuer granted such power on them , That will allow to tyrannize vpon them , Or vse them vnder their command so ill , To force them , without reason , to their will . For who hath read in all the sacred writ , Of any one compel'd to marriage ( yet ? ) Or father so vnkind ( thereto requir'd ) Deny'd his Child the match that he desir'd , So that be found the lawes did not forbid it ? I thinke those gentler ages no men did it . In those dayes therefore for them to haue bin Contracted without licence , had been sin ; Since there was more good Nature among men , And euery one more truly louing then . But now ( although we stand obliged still To labour for their liking , and good will ) There is no duty whereby they may tye vs From ought which without reason they deny vs : For I do thinke , it is not onely meant , Children should aske , but Parents should consent : And that they erre , their duty as much breaking , For not consenting , as we not for speaking . " It is no maruaile many matches be " Concluded now without their priuitie ; " Since they , through greedy Auarice misled , " Their interest in that haue forfeited . For these respectlesse of all care , do marry Hot youthfull May to cold old Ianuary . Those for some greedy end doe basely tie The sweetest faire to foule deformitie . Forcing a loue from where 't was placed late , To re-ingraffe it where it turnes to hate . It seemes no cause of hindrance in their eyes , Though manners nor affections sympathize . And two Religions by their rules of state , They may in one made body tolerate , As if they did desire that double stemme , Should fruitfull beare but Nauters like to them . Alas , how many numbers of both kindes By that haue euer discontented mindes ! And liue ( though seeming vnto others well ) In the next torments vnto those of hell . How many desprate growne by this their sinne , Haue both vndone themselues and all their kinne ? Many a one we see it makes to fall With the too-late repenting Prodigall . Thousands , though else by nature gentler giuen , To act the horridst murthers oft are driuen . And ( which is worse ) there 's many a carelesse elfe , ( Vnlesse heauen pitty ) kils and damnes himselfe . Oh what hard heart , or what vnpittying eyes , Could hold from teares to see those Tragedies , Parents by their neglect in this , haue hurld Vpon the stage of this respectlesse world ? T is not one Man , one Family , one Kinne , No nor one Countrey that hath ruin'd bin By such their Folly , which the cause hath prou'd , That forraine oft , and civill warres were mou'd By such beginnings many a Citie lies Now in the dust , whose Turrets brau'd the skies : And diuers Monarkes by such fortunes crost , Haue seene their Kingdomes fir'd , and spoil'd and lost . Yet all this while , thou seest , I mention not The ruine , shame , and chastity hath got ; For 't is a taske too infinite to tell How many thousands that would haue done well , Do by the meánes of this , suffer desires To kindle in their hearts vnlawfull fires : Nay , some in whose cold breast ne're flame had bin Haue onely for meere vengeance falne to sin . My selfe haue seene , and my heart bled to see 't , A witlesse Clowne enioy a match vnmeet . Shee was a Lasse that had a looke to moue The heart of cold Diogenes to loue : Her eye was such , whose every glaunce did know To kindle flames vpon the hils of snow ; And by her powerfull peircings could imprint , Or sparkle fire into a heart of flint : And yet , vnlesse I much deceiued be , In very thought did hate immodestie : And ( had sh'enioyd the man she could haue lou'd ) Might , to this day , haue liued vnreprou'd : But being forc'd , perforce , by seeming friends , With her consent , she her contentment ends . In that compel'd , her selfe to him she gaue , Whose bed , she rather could haue wisht her graue ; And since , I heare , what I much feare is true , That she hath bidden shame and fame adue . Such are the causes now that Parents quite Are put beside much of their ancient right : There feare of this , makes children to with-hold From giuing them those dues which else they wold : And these thou see'st are the too-fruitfull ils , Which daily spring from their vnbridled wils . Yet they , forsooth , will haue it vnderstood , That all their study , is their childrens good . A seeming Loue shall couer all they do : When , if the matter were well lok't into , Their carefull reach is chiefly to fulfill Their owne foule , greedy , and insatiate will : Who quite forgetting they were ever yong , Would haue the children dote with them on dung . Grant , betwixt two , there be true loue , content , Birth not mis-seeming , wealth sufficient , Equality in yeares , an honest fame , In euery side the person without blame , And they obedient too : What can you gather Of Loue , or of Affection , in that father , That but a little to augment his treasure , ( Perhaps , no more but only for his pleasure : ) Shall force his child to one he doth abhor , From her he loues , and iustly seeketh for ; Compelling him , ( for such mis-fortune grieu'd ) To die with care , that might with ioy haue liu'd ? This you may say is Loue , and sweare as well , There 's paines in Heauen , and delights in Hell ; Or that the Deuils fury and austerity , Proceeds out of his care of our prosperity . Would Parents ( in this age ) haue vs begin To take by their eyes , our affections in ? Or do they thinke we beare them in our fist , That we may still remoue them as they list ? It is impossible it should be thus , For we are rul'd by Loue , not Loue by vs : And so our power so much ne're reacheth to , To know where we shall loue , vntill we do . And when it comes , hide it a while we may , But 't is not in our strengths to driue't away . Either mine owne eye should my chuser be , Or I would ne're weare Hymens Liuery . For who is he so neare my heart doth rest , To know what 't is , that mine approueth best : I haue my selfe beheld those men , whose frame , And outward personages had nought of blame , They had ( what might their good proportion grace ) The much more mouing part , a comely face , With many of those complements , which wee , In common men , of the best breeding , see . They had discourse , and wit enough to carry Themselues in fashion , at an Ordinary ; Gallants they were , lou'd company and sport , Wore fauours , and had Mistresses in Court : And euery way were such that now might seeme Worthy of note , respect , and such esteeme ; Yet hath my eye more cause of liking seene , Where nought perhaps by some hath noted beene : And I haue there found more content , by farre , Where some of these perfections wanting are ; Yea so much , that their beauties were a blot To them ( me thought ) because he had them not . There some peculiar thing innated is , That beares an vncontrouled sway in this ; And nothing but it selfe knowes how to fit The minde with that which best shall suit with it . Then why should Parents thrust themselues into What they want warrant for , and power to do ? How is it they are so forgetfull growne , Of those conditions , that were once their owne ? Do they so dote amidst their wits perfection , To thinke that age and youth hath like affection ! ( When they do see 'mong those of equall yeares , One hateth what another most endeares . ) Or do they thinke their wisdomes can invent A thing to giue , that 's greater than Content ? No , neither shall they wrap vs in such blindnesse , To make vs thinke the spight they do , a kindnesse . For as I would aduise no child to stray From the least duty that he ought to pay : So would I also haue him wisely know , How much that duty is which he doth owe : That knowing what doth vnto both belong , He may do them their right , himselfe no wrong . For if my Parents him I loath should chuse , T is lawfull , yea my duty to refuse : Else , how shall I lead so vpright a life , As is enioyned to the Man and Wife ? Since that we see some time there are repentings , Eu'n where there are the most , and best contentings . What , though that by our Parents first we liue , Is not life , misery enough to giue ; Which at their births the children doth vndo , Vnlesse they adde some other mischiefe to ? Cause they gaue being to this flesh of our , Must we be therefore slaues vnto their power ? We ne're desir'd it , for how could we tell , Not being , but that not to be was well : Nor know they whom they profit by it , seeing Happy were some , if they had had no being . Indeed , had they produc'd vs without sin , Had all our duty to haue pleas'd them bin : Of the next life , could they assure the state , And both beget vs and regenerate ; There were no reason then we should withstand To vndergoe their tyranou'st command : In hope that either for our hard endurance , We should , at last , haue comfort in assurance : Or if in our endeuours we mis-sped , At least feele nothing when we should be dead . But what 's the Reason for 't that we shall be Inthral'd so much vnto Mortality ? Our soules on will of any Men to tye Vnto an euerlasting misery . So farre , perhaps too , from the good of either , We ruine them , our selues , and all together . Children owe much , I must confesse , 't is true , And a great debt is to the Parents due : Yet if they haue not so much power to craue But in their owne defence the liues they gaue : How much lesse then , should they become so cruell As to take from them the high prised Iewell Of liberty in choice , whereon depends The maine contentment that the heauen here lends ; Worth life or wealth , nay far more worth then either , Or twenty thousand liues put all together . Then howsoeuer some , seuerer bent , May deeme of my opinion , or intent , With that which followes thus conclude I do : ( And I haue Reason for 't , and Conscience too ) No Parent may his Childs iust suite deny On his bare will , without a reason why : Nor he so vs'd , be disobedient thought , If vnapprou'd he take the match he sought . So then if that thy faith vncrazed be , Thy friends dislike shall be no stop to me : For if their will be not of force to do it , They shall haue no cause else to driue them to it . Let them bring all forth that they can alledge , We are both yong , and of the fittest age , If thou dissembledst not , both loue , and both To admit hinderance in our loues were loth . T is preiudiciall vnto none that liues , And Gods , and humane Law our warrant giues . Nor are we much vnequall in degree , Perhaps our Fortunes somewhat different be . But say that little meanes , which is , were not , The want of wealth may not dissolue this knot . For though some such preposterous courses wend , Prescribing to themselues no other end ▪ Marr'age was not ordain'd t' enrich men by , Vnlesse it were in their posterity . And he that doth for other causes wed , Ner'e knowes the true sweetes of a marriage bed : Nor shall he by my will , for 't is vnfit He should haue blisse that neuer aym'd at it . Though that bewitching gold the Rabble blinds , And is the obiect of the Vulgar minds : Yet those me thinks that graced seeme to bee , With so much good as doth appeare in thee , Should scorne , their better ▪ taught desires to tye To that , which fooles do get their honour by . I can like of the wealth I ( must confesse ) Yet more I prize the man , though mony-Iesse . I am not of their humor yet , that can For Title , or Estate , affect a Man ; Or of myselfe , one body deigne to make With him I loath , for his possessions sake . Nor wish I euer to haue that minde bred In me , that is in those ; who , when they wed , Thinke it enough they do attaine the grace Of some new honour , to fare well , take place , Weare costly clothes , in others sights agree , Or happy in opinion seeme to bee . I weigh not this : for were I sure before Of Spencers wealth , or our rich Suttons store ; Had I therewith a man , whom Nature lent Person enough to giue the eye content : If I no outward due , nor right did want , Which the best husbands in appearance grant ▪ Nay , though alone we had no priuate iarres , But merry liu'd from all domestick cares ; Vnlesse I thought his Nature so incline , That it might also sympathize with mine , ( And yeeld such correspondence with my mind , Our soules might mutually contentment find , By adding vnto these which went before , Some certaine vnexpressed pleasures more , Such as exceed the streight and curb'd dimensions ▪ Of common minds , and vulgar apprehensions ) I would not care for such a match , but tarry In this estate I am , and neuer marry . Such were the sweets I hop'd to haue possest , When Fortune should with thee haue made me blest . My heart could hardly thinke of that content To apprehend it without rauishment . Each word of thine ( me-thought ) was to my eares More pleasing then that musick , which the Spheares ( They say ) do make the Gods , when in their chime , Their motions Diapason with the time . In my conceit , the opening of thy eye , Seem'd to giue light to euery obiect by , And shed a kinde of life vnto my shew , In euery thing that was within it view . More ioy I 'ue felt to haue thee but in place , Then many doe in the most close embrace Of their beloved'st friend , which well doth proue , Not to thy body onely tends my loue . But mounting a true height , growes so diuine , It makes my soule to fall in loue with thine . And sure now whatsoer'e thy body do , Thy soule loues mine , and oft they visit too . For late I dream'd they went I know not whither , Vnlesse to Heauen , and there play'd together ; And to this day I nere could know or see , 'Twixt them or vs the least Antipathy . Then what should make thee keepe thy person hence , Or leaue to loue , or hold it in suspence ? If to offend thee I vnwares was driuen , Is 't such a fault as may not be forgiuen ? Or if by frownes of Fate I haue beene checke , So that I seeme not worth thy first respect , Shall I be therefore blamed and vpbraided , With what could not be holpen , nor auoyded ? T is not my fault : yet cause my Fortunes doe , Wilt thou be so vnkinde to wrong me too ? Not vnto Thine , but thee I set my heart , So nought can wipe my loue out while thou art : Though thou wert poorer both of house and meat , Then he that knowes not where to sleepe or eat : Though thou wert sunke into obscuritie , Become an abiect in the worlds proud eye , Though by peruersnesse of thy Fortune crost , Thou wert deformed , or some limbe had'st lost , That loue which Admiration first begot , Pitty would strengthen , that it failed not : Yea I should loue thee still , and without blame , As long as thou couldst keepe thy minde the same ; Which is of Vertues so compact ( I take it ) No mortall change shall haue the power to shake it . This may , and will ( I know ) seeme strange to those That cannot the Abyss of loue disclose , Nor must they thinke , whom but the out-side moues , Euer to apprehend such noble Loues , Or more coniecture their vnsounded measure , Then can we mortals of immortall pleasure . Then let not those dull vnconceiuing braines , Who shall hereafter come to read these straines , Suppose that no loues fire can be so great , Because it giues not their cold Clime such heat . Or thinke m'inuention could haue reached here Vnto such thoughts , vnlesse such loue there were . For then they shall but shew their knowledge weake , And iniure me , that feele of what I speake . But now my lines grow tedious , like my wrong , And as I thought that , thou thinkst this too long . Or some may deeme , I thrust my selfe into More then beseemeth modesty to do . But of the difference I am not vnwitting , Betwixt a peeuish coynes , and things vnfitting : Nothing respect I , who pries ore my doing : For here 's no vaine allurements , nor fond wooing , To traine some wanton stranger to my lure ; But with a thought that 's honest , chaste , and pure , I make my cause vnto thy conscience knowne , Suing for that which is by right my owne . In which complaint , if thou do hap to finde Any such word , as seemes to be vnkinde : Mistake me not , it but from Passion sprung , And not from an intent to do thee wrong . Or if among these doubts my sad thoughts breed , Some ( peraduenture ) may be more than need ; They are to let thee know , might we dispute , There 's no obiections but I could refute ; And spight of Enuy such defences make , Thou shouldst embrace that loue thou dost forsake . Then do not ( oh forgetfull man ) now deeme , That 't is ought else then I haue made it seeme . Or that I am vnto this Passion mou'd , Because I cannot else-where be belou'd : Or that it is thy state , whose greatnesse knowne , Makes me become a sutor for my owne : Suppose not so ; for know this day there be Some that wooe hard for what I offer thee : And I haue euer yet contented bin With that estate I first was placed in . Banish those thoughts , and turne thee to my heart , Come once againe , and be what once thou wert . Reviue me by those wonted ioyes repairing , That am nigh dead with sorrowes and despairing . So shall the memory of this annoy , But adde more sweetnesse to my future ioy ; Yea make me thinke thou meantst not to deny me , But onely wert estranged thus , to try me . And lastly , for that loues sake thou once bar'st me , By that right hand thou gau'st , hat oath thou swar'st me , By all the Passions , and ( if any be ) For her deere sake that makes thee iniure me ; I here coniure thee ; no ; intreat and sue , That if these lines do ouer-reach thy view , Thou wouldst afford me so much fauour for them ▪ As to accept , or at least not abhorre them . So though thou wholy cloake not thy disdaine , I shall haue somewhat the lesse cause to plaine : Or if thou needs must scoffe at this , or me , Do 't by thy selfe , that none may witnesse be . Not that I feare 't will bring me any blame , Onely I 'me loth the world should know my shame . For all that shall this plaint with reason view , Will iudge me faithfull , and thee most vntrue . But if Obliuion , that thy loue bereft , Hath not so much good nature in thee left , But that thou must , as most of you men doe , When you haue conquer'd , tyranize it too : Know this before , that it is praiseto no man , To wrong so fraile a Creature as a woman , And to insult or'e one , so much made thine , Will more be thy disparagement then mine . But oh ( I pray that it portend no harme , ) A chearing heate my chilled senses warmes : Iust now I flashing feele into my brest , A sudden comfort , not to be exprest ; Which to my thinking , doth againe begin To warme my heart , to let some hope come in ; It tels me , 't is impossible that thou Shouldst liue not to be mine ; It whispers how My former feares and doubts haue beene in vaine , And that thou mean'st yet to returne againe . It sayes thy absence from some cause did grow , Which , or I should not , or I could not know . It tells me now , that all those proofes , whereby I seem'd assur'd of thy disloyalty , May be but treacherous plots of some base foes , That in thy absence sought our ouerthrowes . Which if it proue ; as yet me thinks it may , Oh! what a burthen shall I cast away ? What cares shall I lay by ? and to what height Towre in my new ascension to delight ? Sure er'e the full of it I come to try , I shall eu'n surfet in my ioy , and dye . But such a losse might well be call'd a thriving , Since more is got by dying so , then living . Come kill me then , my deare , if thou thinke fit ▪ With that which never killed woman yet : Or write to me before , so shalt thou giue Content more moderate that I may liue : And when I see my staffe of trust vnbroken , I will vnspeake againe what is mis-spoken . What I haue written in dispraise of Men , I will recant , and praise as much agen ; In recompence I le adde vnto their Stories , Encomiastick lines to ymp their glories . And for those wrongs my loue to thee hath done ▪ Both I and it vnto thy Pitty runne : In whom , if the least guilt thou finde to be , For euer let thy armes imprison me . Meane while I 'le try if misery will spare Me so much respite , to take truce with care . And patiently await the doubtfull doome , Which I expect from thee should shortly come ; Much longing that I one way may be sped , And not still linger 'twixt aliue and dead . For I can neither liue yet as I should , Because I least enioy of that I would ; Nor quiet dye , because ( indeed ) I first Would see some better dayes , or know the worst . Then hasten Deare , if to my end it be , It shall be welcome , cause it comes from thee . If to renew my Comfort ought be sent , Let me not loose a minute of Content . The pretious Time is short , and will away ; Let vs enioy each other while we may . Cares thriue , Age creepeth on , Men are but shades , Ioyes lessen , Youth decayes , and Beauty fades ; New turnes come on , the old returneth neuer If we let our go past , 't is past for euer .