Wittes Pilgrimage, Sonnet 34

YNough (fell Faire!) for, thou hast donne the Deede
That thou hast longe bin doing, which doth make
Thy mercy lesse, for that, to kill with speede
Shewes more remorce then they that leasure take.
How? and how longe hast thou bin mart'ring mee
To make my Deathe beyond my death to stand?
Who haue bin so Anatomiz'd by Thee
That eu'ry Nerue hath felt thy Rigors hand!
Out of my Hart, and Braines that Hand hath squiz'd
The Spirits that either Life, or Sence maintaine:
For, I am all as dead, as vnaduiz'd:
Only, for Thee, I Life, in show, retaine:
And if thou wilt haue That, sith That's for Thee
Then take Thou All, and leaue the rest for mee.