The Poems of William Smith :: :: University of Virginia Library

Each beast in field doth wish the morning light,
The birds to Hesper pleasant laies do sing:
The wanton kids well fed reioice in night,
Being likewise glad when day begins to spring.
But night nor day are welcome vnto me,
Both can beare witnes of my lamentation,
All day sad sighing Corine you shall see,
All night he spends in teares and exclamation.
Thus still I liue although I take no rest:
But liuing looke as one that is a dying:
Thus my sad soule with care and griefe opprest,
Seemes as a ghost to Styx and Lethe flying.
Thus hath fond loue bereft my youthfull yeeres,
Of all good hap before old age appeeres.