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 Driuen with ſtreames of wretchedneſſe and woe, That dying liues, and liuing ſtill does dye.

So doo I liue, ſo doo I daylie die, And pine away in ſelfe-conſuming paine, Sith ſhe that did my vitall powres ſupplie, And feeble ſpirits in their force maintaine In fetcht fro me, why ſeeke I to prolong My wearie daies in dolor and diſdaine? Weep Shepheard weep to make my vnderſong.

Why doo I longer liue in lifes deſpight? And doo not dye then in deſpight of death: Why doo I longer ſee this loathſome light, And doo in darkneſſe not abridge my breath, Sith all my ſorrow ſhould have end thereby, And cares finde quiet; is it ſo vneach To leaue this life, or dolorous to dye?

To liue I finde it deadly dolorous; For life drawes care, and care continuall woe: Therefore to dye muſt needes be ioyeous, And wiſhfull thing this ſad life to forgoe. But I muſt ſtay; I may it not amend, My Daphne hence departing bad me ſo, She bad me ſtay, till ſhe for me did ſend.

Yet whileſt I in this wretched vale doo ſtay, My wearie feete ſhall euer wandring be, That ſtill I may be readie on my way, When as her meſſenger doth come for me: Ne will I reſt my feete for feebleneſſe, Ne will I reſt my limmes for frailtie, Ne will I reſt mine eyes for heauineſſe. But