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147

[In vaine, mine Eyes, you labour to amende]

[Zelmane.]
In vaine, mine Eyes, you labour to amende
With flowing teares your fault of hasty sight:
Since to my hart her shape you so did sende;
That her I see, though you did lose your light.
In vaine, my Hart, now you with sight are burnd,
With sighes you seeke to coole your hotte desire:
Since sighes (into mine inward fornace turnd)
For bellowes serve to kindle more the fire.
Reason, in vaine (now you have lost my hart)
My head you seeke, as to your strongest forte:
Since there mine eyes have played so false a parte,
That to your strength your foes have sure resorte.
Then since in vaine I find were all my strife,
To this strange death I vainely yeeld my life.