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Penelopes complaint.
Penelope complaineth of Vlysses departure.
YOu Nymphs that Alcidalions brookes,
And Paphos sportes are dispossest:
Which want the Sun of louely lookes.
And are displac'd of Cupids crest:
If you haue tried, loues sweete aspect,
And do lament, your ioyes defect:
Surcease, your cases to complaine,
Your losses leaue so much to mone,
Alas my loues long lacking paine,
Is more then yours tenne to one:
But if you needes will puling sit,
A pew-mate for you am I fit.
Let foolish Phillis cease to faint,
And for Demophoon leaue to mourne:
Let Dido finish her complaint,
And faithlesse false Aeneas scorne:
For carelesse wights why do you care,
And causelesse eke so wofull are?
Leaue off (I say) those causelesse cares,
Help me bewaile my wretched woe:
What neede you shed those ruthlesse teares?
Your passions but of pleasure grow,
Oh help me seely soule, relate
My toilesome lamentable state.