Lighten, heavy heart, thy sprite

Lighten, heavy heart, thy sprite,
The joys recall that thence are fled;
Yield thy breast some living light;
The man that nothing doth is dead.
Tune thy temper to these sounds,
And quicken so thy joyless mind;
Sloth the worst and best confounds:
It is the ruin of mankind.

From her cave rise all distastes,
Which unresolved Despair pursues;
Whom soon after Violence hastes,
Herself, ungrateful, to abuse.
Skies are cleared with stirring winds,
Th' unmoved water moorish grows;
Every eye much pleasure finds
To view a stream that brightly flows.