Tixall Poetry.
121
X.
The Tormented Lover.
I die when that I doe not see
Her that is life and all to me;
And if I see her yet I die,
In seeing of her cruelty;
So that to me like misery is wrought,
Both when I see, and when I see her not.
Her that is life and all to me;
And if I see her yet I die,
In seeing of her cruelty;
So that to me like misery is wrought,
Both when I see, and when I see her not.
Why should I die, or silent grieve?
For who can silence e're relieve?
Yet if I speake, I may offend,
And speaking not my hart will rend:
Soe that to me, I see it is all one,
Speake I, or speake I not, I am undone.
For who can silence e're relieve?
Yet if I speake, I may offend,
And speaking not my hart will rend:
Soe that to me, I see it is all one,
Speake I, or speake I not, I am undone.
