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To PANDORA.
Canst thou haue eares, & wil not heare my plaint
Canst thou haue eies, & wil not wipe my teares
Hast thou a heart, and feeles not how I faint,
Debating twixt dispairing hops and feares?
Canst thou not see those sad and ciuill weairs
Which are within the kingdome of my heart,
Where Legions of persuing pangs appeairs,
My vtter wrake and ruine to impart?
Heere burns the fire, there sticks the deadly dart:
Here teares me droun, there smoky sighs me smore
Here Beauty wounds, there riuals runs athwart,
And ielous eyes do pry into each pore:
When al these al and thou my wrack contriues,
I can not last, and I had twentie liues.
Perfida sed duris genuit te montibus horrens,Cantasus, hircane{que} admorunt vbera tigr••s.