Saint Peters complaint With other Poemes [by Robert Southwell] |
 |
Marie Magdalens complaynt at Christes death. |
 | Saint Peters complaint |  |
37
Marie Magdalens complaynt at Christes death.
Sith my life from life is parted:
Death come take thy portion.
VVho suruiues, when life is murdred,
Liues by meere extortion.
All that liue, and not in God:
Couch their life in deaths abod.
Death come take thy portion.
VVho suruiues, when life is murdred,
Liues by meere extortion.
All that liue, and not in God:
Couch their life in deaths abod.
Seely starres must needes leaue shining,
VVhen the sunne is shaddowed.
Borrowed streames refraine their running,
VVhen head springs are hindered.
One that liues by others breath,
Dieth also by his death.
VVhen the sunne is shaddowed.
Borrowed streames refraine their running,
VVhen head springs are hindered.
One that liues by others breath,
Dieth also by his death.
O true life, since thou hast left me,
Mortall life is tedious.
Death it is to liue without thee,
Death, of all most odious.
Turne againe or take me to thee,
Let me dye or liue thou in mee.
Mortall life is tedious.
Death it is to liue without thee,
Death, of all most odious.
Turne againe or take me to thee,
Let me dye or liue thou in mee.
38
Where the truth once was, and is not,
Shaddowes are but vanitie:
Shewing want, that helpe they cannot:
Signes, not salues of miserie.
Paynted meate no hunger feedes,
Dying life each death exceedes.
Shaddowes are but vanitie:
Shewing want, that helpe they cannot:
Signes, not salues of miserie.
Paynted meate no hunger feedes,
Dying life each death exceedes.
VVith my loue, my life was nestled
In the sonne of happinesse;
From my loue, my life is wrested
To a world of heauinesse.
O, let loue my life remoue,
Sith I liue not where I loue.
In the sonne of happinesse;
From my loue, my life is wrested
To a world of heauinesse.
O, let loue my life remoue,
Sith I liue not where I loue.
O my soule, what did vnloose thee
From thy sweete captiuitie?
God, not I, did still possesse thee:
His, not mine, thy libertie.
O, two happie thrall thou wart,
When thy prison, was his hart.
From thy sweete captiuitie?
God, not I, did still possesse thee:
His, not mine, thy libertie.
O, two happie thrall thou wart,
When thy prison, was his hart.
Spightfull speare, that breakest this prison,
Seate of all felicitie,
Working this, with double treason,
Loues and liues deliuerie:
Though my life thou drau'st away,
Maugre thee my loue shall stay.
Seate of all felicitie,
Working this, with double treason,
Loues and liues deliuerie:
Though my life thou drau'st away,
Maugre thee my loue shall stay.
| Saint Peters complaint | |