Rest awhile, you cruel cares

Be not more severe than love.

Beauty kills and beauty spares,

And sweet smiles sad sighs remove:

Laura, fair queen of my delight,

Come grant me love in love's despite,

And if I fail ever to honour thee,

Let this heavenly light I see,

Be as dark as hell to me.



If I speak, my words want weight,

Am I mute, my heart doth break,

If I sigh, she fears deceit,

Sorrow then for me must speak:

Cruel unkind, with favour view

The wound that first was made by you:

And if my torments feigned be,

Let this heavenly light I see,

Be as dark as hell to me.



Never hour of pleasing rest

Shall revive my dying gost,

Till my soul hath repossess'd

The sweet hope which love hath lost:

Laura redeem the soul that dies,

By fury of thy murdering eyes:

And if it prove unkind to thee,

Let this heavenly light I see,

Be as dark as hell to me