Unhappy Verse! the witnes of my unhappy state,
Make thy self fluttring wings of thy fast flying thoght
And fly forth unto my Love, wheresoever she be.

Whether lying restlesse in heavy bed, or else
Sitting so cheerelesse at the cheerefull boord, or else Playing alone carelesse on hir heav'nly Virginalls.

If in Bed, tel her that mine eies can take no rest:
If at Board, tel her that my mouth can taste no food:
If at her Virginalls, tell her I can heare no mirth.

Asked why, say waking love suffreth no sleepe:
Say that raging love doth appall the weake stomak:
Say that lamenting love marreth the musicall.

Tel hir, that hir plesures were wont to lul me asleep
Tel hir, that hir beautie was wont to feed mine eies:
Tel hir, that her sweet tongue was wont to make me mirth

Now do I nightly waste, wanting my kindely rest:
Now do I daily starve, wanting my lively foode:
Now do I alwayes die, wanting my timely mirth.

And if I waste, who will bewaile my heavy chance?
And if I starve, who will record my cursed end?
And if I die, who will say, this was Immerito?