Sonnet XLIII: Are those two starres, her eyes, my

Are those two starres, her eyes, my lifes light gone?
By which my soule was freed from all darke.
And am I left distres'd, to live alone?
Where none my teares and mournefull tale shall marke.
Ah Sunne, why shine thy lookes, thy lookes like gold.
When horseman brave thou risest in the East.
Ah Cynthia pale, to whome my griefes I told,
Why doe you both rejoyce both man and beast?
And I alone, alone that darke possesse
By Licias absence brighter then the Sunne,
Whose smyling light did ease my sadde distresse
And broke the clowdes when teares like rayne begun.
Heavens graunt that light and so me waking keepe:
Or shut my eyes, and rocke me fast a-sleepe.