The Countesse of Mountgomeries Urania Written by the right honorable the Lady Mary Wroath |
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The Countesse of Mountgomeries Urania | ||
6
O striue not still to heape disdaine on me,
Nor pleasure take, your cruelty to show
On haplesse me, on whom all sorrowes flow,
And byding make, as giuen, and lost by thee.
Nor pleasure take, your cruelty to show
On haplesse me, on whom all sorrowes flow,
And byding make, as giuen, and lost by thee.
Alas, euen griefe is growne to pitty me,
Scorne cryes out 'gainst it selfe such ill to show,
And would giue place for ioyes delights to flow;
Yet wretched I, all torture beare from thee.
Scorne cryes out 'gainst it selfe such ill to show,
And would giue place for ioyes delights to flow;
Yet wretched I, all torture beare from thee.
Long haue I suffer'd, and esteem'd it deare,
Since such thy will, yet grew my paine more neere:
Wish you may ende, say so, you shall it haue;
Since such thy will, yet grew my paine more neere:
Wish you may ende, say so, you shall it haue;
For all the deapth of my heart-held despaire,
Is that for you, I feele not Death for care,
But now Ile seeke it, since you will not saue.
Is that for you, I feele not Death for care,
But now Ile seeke it, since you will not saue.
The Countesse of Mountgomeries Urania | ||