The Countesse of Mountgomeries Urania | ||
8.
Ledd by the power of griefe to wailings brought,
By false conceit of change fallen on my part;
I seeke for some small ease by lines which bought,
Increase the paine; griefe is not cur'd by Art.
By false conceit of change fallen on my part;
I seeke for some small ease by lines which bought,
Increase the paine; griefe is not cur'd by Art.
Ah! how vnkindnesse moues within the heart,
Which still is true and free from changing thought:
What vnknowne woe it breeds, what endlesse smart,
With ceaslesse teares which causelesly are wrought.
Which still is true and free from changing thought:
What vnknowne woe it breeds, what endlesse smart,
With ceaslesse teares which causelesly are wrought.
It makes me now to shun all shining light,
And seeke for blackest clouds me light to giue:
Which to all others onely darknesse driue;
They on me shine, for Sunne disdaines my sight.
And seeke for blackest clouds me light to giue:
Which to all others onely darknesse driue;
They on me shine, for Sunne disdaines my sight.
Yet though I darke doe liue, I triumph may,
Vnkindnes, nor this wrong shall loue allay.
Vnkindnes, nor this wrong shall loue allay.
The Countesse of Mountgomeries Urania | ||