Griefe, killing griefe: have nott my torments binn
Allreddy great, and strong enough: butt still
Thou dost increase, nay glory in mine ill,
And woes new past affresh new woes beeginn!

Am I the only purchase thou canst winn?
Was I ordain'd to give dispaire her fill
Or fittest I should mounte misfortunes hill
Who in the plaine of joy can-nott live in?

If itt bee soe: Griefe come as wellcome ghest
Since I must suffer, for an others rest:
Yett this good griefe, lett mee intreat of thee,

Use still thy force, butt nott from those I love
Lett mee all paines, and lasting torments prove
Soe I miss thes, lay all thy waits on mee.