SEXTAIN

THe Heaven doth not containe so many Stars,
Nor levell'd lye so many leaves in Woods,
When Autumne and cold Boreas sound their Wars,
So many Waves have not the Ocean Floods,
As my torn Mind hath torments all the Night,
And Heart spends Sighs, when Phoebus brings the Light ▪

Why was I made a Partner of the Light,
Who crost in birth, by bad aspect of Stars,
Have never since had happy Day nor Night?
Why was not I a liver in the Woods,
Or Citizen of Thetis christall Floods,
But fram'd a Man for Love and Fortunes Wars?

I look each Day when Death should end the Wars,
Vncivill Wars 'twixt Sense and Reasons Light:
My Paines I count to Mountaines, Meads and Floods,
And of my sorrow Partners make the Stars,
All Desolate I haunt the fearfull Woods,
When I should give my selfe to rest at Night ▪

With watchfull Eyes I ne'r behold the Night
Mother of Peace, but ah to me of Wars,
And Cynthia Queen-like shining through the Woods,
But straight those Lamps come in my thought whose Light
My Judgement dazel'd, passing brightest Stars,
And then my Eyes in-isle themselves with Floods.

Turne to their Springs againe first shall the Floods,
Cleare shall the Sun the sad and gloomy Night,
To dance about the Pole cease shall the Stars,
The Elements renew their ancient Wars
Shall first, and be depriv'd of Place and Light,
Ere I find rest in City, Fields, or Woods.

End these my daies you Inmates of the Woods,
Take this my Life ye deep and raging Flouds,
Sun never rise to cleare me with thy Light,
Horror and Darknesse keep a lasting Night,
Consume me Care with thy intestine Wars,
And stay your Influence o're me bright Stars.

In vaine the Stars, th' Inhabitants o'th' Woods,
Care, Horror, Wars I call and raging Floods,
For all have sworne no Night shall dim my Sight.