Wittes Pilgrimage, Sonnet 12

FOrbidden hopes? (the comforts of my Care,
Yet Care that kils all comforts cheering me)
I am no more my selfe the whiles you are:
And, yet much more then so, the whiles you be.
If ye stay with me, from my selfe I runne:
If you part from me, past my selfe I fly;
Stay, or part from me, death I cannot shun:
With, or without your helpe, I needs must dy.
I needs must dy, for life-inspiring you:
And dy, if dy you do by whom I liue:
I do decay when I do yee renew;
I grieue with you, but more without you grieue:
O then what choise remaines to wretched me
But to be nought, or not at all to Be.