A Living Death

If means be none to end my restless care,
If needs I must o'erwhelmed with sorrow lie,
What better way this sorrow to declare,
Than that I dying live, and cannot die?

If nought but loss I reap instead of gain,
If lasting pain do every day increase,
To thee, good Death, alas! I must complain;
Thou art of force to make my sorrow cease.

If thou, because I thee refused sometime,
Now shut thine ears, and my request deny;
Still must I love, and wail in woeful rime,
That dying still I am, and cannot die.