University of Virginia Library

The dolefull bell

The louer shewing of the continuall paines that abide within his brest determineth to die because he can not haue redresse.

The dolefull bell that still dothe ring,
The wofull knell of all my ioyes:
The wretched hart dothe perce and wringe,
And fils mine eare with deadly noyes.
The hongry vyper in my brest,
That on my hart dothe lye and gnawe:
Dothe dayly brede my new vnrest,
And deper sighes dothe cause me drawe.
And though I force bothe hande and eye,
On pleasant matter to attende:
My sorowes to deceaue therby,
And wretched life for to amende.
Yet goeth the mill within my hart,
Which gryndeth nought but paine and wo:
And turneth all my ioye to smart,
The euill corne it yeldeth so.
Though Venus smile with yeldyng eyes,
And swete musike both play and singe:
Yet doth my sprites fele none of these,
The clacke dothe at mine eare so ringe.
As smallest sparckes vncared for,
To greatest flames dothe sonest growe,
Euen so did this myne inwarde sore,
Begin in game and ende in wo.
And now by vse so swift it goeth,
That nothing can mine eares so fil:
But that the clacke it ouergoeth,
And plucketh me backe into the myll.
But since the mill will nedes about,
The pinne wheron the whele dothe go:
I wyll assaye to strike it out,
And so the myll to ouerthrow.

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