Wit restor'd in several select poems not formerly publish't.

An Elegie.

WHy faire vow-breaker, have thy sinnes thought fit That I be curst example of thy wit As well as scornes? (bad womn) have not I Deserv'd as much as quiet misery? Be wise and trouble not my suffering fit For every sin I have repentance yet, Except for loving thee; do not thou presse My easie madnesse to a wickednesse As high as that, least I be driven so As far from heaven as thou art, which I know

Is not thy ayme, for thou hast sin'd to be In place, as in affection, farre from me. Am I thy freind or kinsman? have I ought That is familiar with thee bettring thought A dreame and some few letters too, yet lye Neglected records of my injury. I know no itch my silent sorrowes moves: To begg a bridall kisse or paire of gloves These are the lighter dutyes which they seek Whose sleepe is sound & constant as the week Is in her nights, who never met the chaunce Of love amisse, but in a dreameing traunce And wak't to gladnesse; t'is not so with me My night and day are twins in misery. These spend-thrift eyes have beene prepar'd with feares To keep a solemne revelling in teares; Hadst thou beene silent I had known the shame Of that dayes union by my greife, not fame. Priva'te as sorrowes lodging had I dwelt Follow'd with my dispaire and never felt Anger except for livinge hadst thou bin Content with my undoinge 'Tis a sinn My love cannot forgive there to upbraid Awret chednesse which thou thy selfe hast made▪ Heaven knowes I sufferd, and I sufferd so That by me twas as infallible to know How passive man is, fate knew not a curse Except thy new contempt to make mee worse And that thou gav'st when I so low was brought

I knew not if I liv'd but yet I thought, And counted sighs and teares, as if to scann The aire and water would make up a man. Hadst thou not broake the peace of my decay Ere this I thinke •…•…'de wept some sinns away, Being diseas'd, diseas'd past mine owne cure Thou wouldst needs kill which made mee to indure My patience: why (Ioyes murdresse) wouldst thou prove VVhether that bee as passive as my love? Had woman such a way as shee can give To man deniall, as of love to live? VVhy then th' abhored reason meers me; why Successless lovers doe so quickly dye, So be it with mee, but if any curse First can be fastned on thee which is worse Then thy unwept for vow-breach may it come As my greife heavye; may the tedious summe Of thy great sinns stand sentinell to keep Repentance from thy thoughts reach. May thy Sleep Be broken as my hopes, 'bove all may •…•…e Thou choosest husband ripe to jealousye. And find it true, to tell thee; may the theames On which thy sleepe doth paraphrase in dreames Bee my sad wrongs: and when some other shall (VVhom chance hath made with mee a∣pocryphall In loveing storyes) search an instance forth To curse his Mistris for her little worth,

May thy name meet him, under whom must be The Common place of womans perjury. May heaven make all this: and if thou pray May heaven esteeme as that thou didst that day Of thy last promises, I've said, be free This pennance done, then my dayes destinye By thee is antedated. But three sighs Must first pay my admission to the skyes. One for my madness, loving woman so That I could think her true; the next ile throw For wounded lovers, that i'le breath a new; The third shall pray my curses may prove true.