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Diana of George of Montemayor

Translated out of Spanish into English by Bartholomew Yong
  

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58

[O grant me then this short content]

O grant me then this short content,
For forc'd I am to thee to flie:
My sighes do not make thee relent,
Nor teares thy hart do mollifie.
Nothing of mine doth giue thee payne,
Nor thou think'st of no remedie:
Mistresse how long shall I sustaine
such ill, as still thou dost applie?
In death there is no helpe, be sure,
But in thy will, where it doth lie:
For all those illes which death doth cure,
Alas, they are but light to trie:
My troubles do not trouble thee,
Nor hope to touch thy soule so nie:
O from a will that is so free,
What should I hope, when I do crie?
How can I mollifie that braue
And stonie hart, of pittie drie?
Yet Mistresse turne those eies (that haue
No peeres) shining like stars in skie:
But turne them not in angrie sort,
If thou wilt not kill me thereby:
Though yet in anger, or in sport,
Thou killest onely with thine eie.