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Ayres and Dialogues

(To be Sung to the Theorbo-Lute or Base-Violl)

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51

[55.] My sickly breath wasts in a double flame

[I]

My sickly breath wasts in a double flame;
Whilst Love and Death to my poor life lay claime;
The feavour in whose heat I melt
By her that causeth it not felt.

II

Thou who alone
Canst, yet wilt grant no ease;
Why slight'st thou one
To feed a new disease?
Unequal Fair, the heart is thine,
Ah! Why then should the pain be mine.