Forbear dark night, my joys now bud againe,
Lately grown dead, while cold aspects did chill
The root at heart, and my chief hope quite k**,
And thunders struck me in my pleasures' waine
Then I alas with bitter sobs, and pain,
Privately groan'd, my Fortunes present ill;
All light of comfort dimm'd, woes in prides fill,
With strange increase of grief, I griev'd in vain.
And most, when as a memory too good
Molested me, which still as witness stood,
Of those best days, in former time I knew:
Late gone as wonders past, like the great Snow,
Melted and wasted, with what, change must know:
Now back the life comes where as once it grew.