“Why doo I longer live in lifes despight,
And doo not dye then in despight of death!
Why doo I longer see this loathsome light,
And doo in darknesse not abridge my breath, 445
Sith all my sorrow should have end thereby,
And cares finde quiet! Is it so uneath*
To leave this life, or dolorous to dye?
[* _Uneath_, difficult.]
“To live I finde it deadly dolorous,
For life drawes care, and care continuall woe; 450
Therefore to dye must needes be ioyeous,
And wishfull thing this sad life to forgoe.
But I must stay; I may it not amend;
My Daphne hence departing bad me so;
She bad me stay, till she for me did send. 455
“Yet, whilest I in this wretched vale doo stay,
My wearie feete shall ever wandring be,
That still I may be readie on my way
When, as her messenger doth come for me;
Ne will I rest my feete for feeblenesse, 460
Ne will I rest my limmes for frailtie,
Ne will I rest mine eyes for heavinesse.
“But, as the mother of the gods, that sought
For faire Euridyce, her daughter dere,
Throughout the world, with wofull heavie thought,
So will I travell whilest I tarrie heere, 466
Ne will I lodge, ne will I ever lin*,
Ne, when as drouping Titan draweth nere
To loose his teeme, will I take up my inne**.
[* _Lin_, cease.]
[** _Inne_, lodging.]
“Ne sleepe, the harbenger* of wearie wights, 470
Shall ever lodge upon mine eye-lids more,
Ne shall with rest refresh my fainting sprights,
Nor failing force to former strength restore:
But I will wake and sorrow all the night
With Philumene*, my fortune to deplore; 475
With Philumene, the partner of my plight.
[* _Harbenger_, one who provides lodging or repose.]
[** _Philumene_, Philomel.]
“And ever as I see the starre to fall,
And under ground to goe to give them light
Which dwell in darknesse, I to mind will call
How my faire starre, that shind on me so bright, 480
Fell sodainly and faded under ground;
Since whose departure, day is turnd to night,
And night without a Venus starre is found.
“But soon as day doth shew his deawie face,
And cals foorth men unto their toylsome trade, 485
I will withdraw me to some darkesome place,
Or some dere* cave, or solitarie shade;
There will I sigh, and sorrow all day long,
And the huge burden of my cares unlade. 489
Weepe, Shepheard! weepe, to make my undersong.
[* Qu. _derne_, lonely? Or, _drere?_]