Barnabe Barnes - "This careful head, with divers thoughts distressed" lyrics

This careful head, with divers thoughts distressed, My fancy's chronicler, my sorrow's muse; These watchful eyes, whose heedless aim I curse, Love's sentinels, and fountains of unrest; This tongue still trembling, herald fit addressed To my love's grief (than any torment worse); This heart, true fortress of my spotless love, And rageous furnace of my long desire: Of these, by nature, am I not possessed, Though nature their first means in me did move. But thou, dear sweet, with thy love's holy fire, My head grief's anvil made, with cares oppressed; Mine eyes, a spring; my tongue, a leaf, wind-shaken; My heart, a wasteful wilderness forsaken.