ELEGIE. III.
[If sadde complaint would shewe a lovers payne]
1
If sadde complaint would shewe a lovers payne,
Or teares expresse the torments of my hart,
If melting sighes would ruth and pitty gaine,
Or true Laments but ease a lovers smart,
2
Then should my plaints the thunders noyse surmount,
And teares like seas should flowe from out my eyes,
Then sighes like ayre should farre exceede all count,
And true laments with sorrow dimme the skyes.
3
But plaintes, and teares, laments, and sighes I spend.
Yet greater torments doe my heart destroy,
I could all these from out my heart still send,
If after these I might my love enjoy.
4
But heavens conspyre, and heavens I must obey;
That seeking love I still must want my ease.
“For greatest joyes are temperd with delay,
“Things soone obtain'd do least of all us please:
5
My thoughtes repyne, and thinke the time too long,
My love impatient, wisheth to obtaine,
I blame the heavens, that do me all this wrong,
To make me lov'd, and will nor ease my payne.
6
No payne like this, to love and not enjoye,
No griefe like this, to mourne, and not be heard.
No time so long, as that which breed's annoy,
No hell like this, to love and be deferd.
7
But heaven shall stand, and earth inconstant flye,
The Sunne shall freese, and Ice inconstant burne,
The mountaines flowe, and all the earth be drye,
Ear time shall force my loving thoughtes to turne.
8
Doe you resolve (sweete love) to doe the same,
Say that you doe, and seale it with a kisse.
Then shall our truthes the heav'ns unkindnesse blame,
That can not hurt, yet shewes their spyte in this.
9
The sillye prentice bound for many yeeres,
Doeth hope that time his service will release.
The towne besieg'd that lives in midst of feares,
Doeth hope in time the cruell warres will cease.
10
The toyling plough-man sings in hope to reape;
The tossed barke expecteth for a shore;
The boy at schoole to be at play doeth leape,
And straight forget's the feare he had before.
11
If these by hope doe joye in their distresse,
And constant are, in hope to conquer tyme.
Then let not hope in us (sweete friend) be lesse,
And cause our love to wither in the Pryme.
Let us conspyre, and time will have an end,
So both of us in time shall have a frend.
FINIS.
