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To PANDORA.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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To PANDORA.

O what a world I suffer of extreames,
Twixt hot desire and icie cold dispaire:
Most like the swift impetuous tyds of Theames,
Are those the ebs and flowings of my care:
I liue allace, a martire late and aire,
Coold with dispaire, and burnd with hot desire:
I see allace, and can not slip the snare,
In floods I frie, and freeze amid the fire:
In Sestian seas to Hero sweet I swim,
And faine would touch the fimber of her goun,
Hoys'd with desire vnto the clouds I clim,
But by dispaire Leander-like I drown:
My Dolphin deare, let not Arion dee,
Saue mee vnsunke, and I shall sing to thee.
Quicquid conabor dicere uersus erit.