LXIX.
[My ioyes are done, my comfort quite dismay'd]
In the first staffe of this Passion, The Authour as one more
then halfe drowping with despaire, sorowfully recounteth
some particular causes of his vnhappinesse in Loue. In the
residue, he entreateth a better aspecte of the Planets, to the
end, that either his life may bee inclined to a more happie
course, or his death be hastned, to end all his misery at once.
My
ioyes are done, my comfort quite dismay'd,
My weary wittes bewitch't with wanton will,
My will by Fancies headeles faulte betrayd,
Whose eyes on Beauties face are fixed still,
And whose conceyte Folly hath clouded soe,
That Loue concludes, my heart must liue in woe.
But change aspect ye angry starres aboue,
And powrs diuine restore my liberty,
Or graunte that soone I may enioye my Loue,
Before my life incurre more misery:
For nowe so hotte is each assault I feele
As woulde dissolue a heart more harde then steele,
Or if you needes must worke my deadly smart,
Performe your charge by hasting on my death
In sight of her, whose eyes enthrall my heart:
Both life and death to her I doe bequeath,
In hope at last, she will voutsafe to say,
I rewe his death, whose life I made away,
