University of Virginia Library



IX. Go christall teares

Go christall teares, like to the morning showers,
& sweetly weepe in to thy Ladies brest,
And as the deawes reuiue the dropping flowers,
So let your drops of pittie be adrest:
To quicken vp the thoughts of my desert,
which sleeps to sound whilst I from her departe.
Hast haplesse sighs and let your burning breath
Dissolue the Ice of her indurate harte,
Whose frosen rigor like forgetfull death,
Feeles neuer any touch of my desarte:
Yet fighs and teares to her I sacryfise,
Both from a spotles hart and pacient eyes.