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The Arbor of Amitie

wherin is comprised pleasant Pohems and pretie Poesies, set foorth by Thomas Howell

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Being in extremitie the Louer bewayleth his restlesse lyfe.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Being in extremitie the Louer bewayleth his restlesse lyfe.

Most greedy gripes with plunging paines,
doe pierce my ruthfull hart:
I passe the noysome night in grones,
through rent with dreadfull dart.
When all reioyce in wished sport,
my moning minde doth crie:
The harmes so huge in dolefull dumpes,
compels me wretch to die.
My languisht limmes in lothsome lyfe,
are rent from bone to bone:
The reins the vaines are clene consumde
with hart so colde as stone.

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I cursse eche lingring howre of day,
my bloudie woundes to stratch:
Once comes I know the yrksome ende,
that shall my cares dispatch.
The furies fierce and fierie flakes,
that burne in hatefull hell:
Cannot surmount my passing plunge,
my carelesse corps to quell.
O heauie hart when wilt thou breake,
when wilt thou rent in twaine:
For that alone my happie helpe,
is ende of all my paine.
More is my griefe, for priuie paines,
I onely wretch doe know:
Nor durst my flashing flame, to friend,
vnfaythfull men to show.
I rage and rewe I frie and freese,
vpwhelmde in woes full sore:
My smarting eies haue spent their teares,
farewell for euermore.