The restfull place, revyver of my smarte

The restfull place, revyver of my smarte :
The labors salve, incressyng my sorow :
The bodys ese, and trobler off my hart :
Quieter of mynd, and my unquyet foo :
Fforgetter of payn, remembryng my woo :
The place of slepe, wherin I do but wake
Be sprent with teres, my bed, I the forsake.

The frost, the snow, may not redresse my hete :
Nor yet no heate abate my fervent cold :
I know nothyng to ese my paynes mete :
Eche care cawsythe increse by twenty fold :
Revyvyng carys upon my sorows old,
Suche overthwart affectes they do me make :
By sprent with terys my bed for to forsake.

Yet helpythe yt not : I fynd no better ese
In bed or owt ; thys moste cawsythe my payn :
Where most I seke how beste that I may plese.
My lost labor, alas, ys all in vayn :
Yet that I gave I cannot call agayn :
No place fro me my greffe away can take
Wherefore with terys my bed I the forsake.