Delia: Sonnet 16

HAppy in sleepe, waking content to languish,
Imbracing clowdes by night, in day time mourne,
My ioyes but shadowes, touch of truth my anguish,
Griefes euer springing, comforts neuer borne.
And still expecting when she will relent,
Growne hoarce with crying mercy, mercy gyue;
So many vowes, and prayers hauing spent,
That weary of my selfe, I loathe to lyue.
And yet the Hydra of my cares renewes,
Still new-borne sorrowes of her fresh disdaine:
And still my hope the Sommer windes purfues,
Finding no end nor period of my paine.
This is my state, my griefes doe touch so neerely,
And thus I liue because I loue her deerely.