LADY, what time I seek in mournful note
To show mine agonies and bloody moan,
My Voice doth fail; and hoarse and harsh my throat:
And this doth come through you, through you alone.
The whilst I think, by means of you in Song,
To mitigate some part of this my smart;
Instead thereof, you do me double wrong:
And with a glance you take away my Heart.
So that I find great hurt by this your theft:
Since where, before but Voice, now Heart, 's bereft.