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PASSION. VIII. (Book 8)
VVay-faring thus in wildernes of care,
My woefull minde, with thornes of discontent,
Doth yeild new thoughts, which torments newe prepare,
Then I begyn a gaine for to lament:
Where first began the Period of my fall,
There first I pause; and rue the summe of all.
Thus doe I mourne, thus doe I moane my daies.
And itt'terate still my heapes of deepe annoy,
Thus doe I liue, and liuing loue to prayse:
The thing which doth my comforts hope destroy,
How can I liue and lead this wearie life?
When life encrease, and death might end the strife.
O blessed death, would death but heare my crie,
And succour lend, to such as succour want,
O happie man yflingering miserie:
Had once an end my dolors to supplante,
Yet would I feare least death would me forsake,
And lothed life my carcas dead awake.
Whom heau'ns doe spite & earthes disdaine dispise,
He whylome liu'd in pleasures pleasant bower,
With patience the low againe may rise,
The fretting horse is spent within an houre:
For all extreames doe worke extreame effectes,
And contrarie yeilde contrarie aspectes.