Page:Elizabethan sonnet-cycles.djvu/144



me sigh, weep, wail, and cry no more;

Or let me sigh, weep, wail, cry more and more!

Yea, let me sigh, weep, wail, cry evermore,

For she doth pity my complaints no more

Than cruel pagan or the savage Moor;

But still doth add unto my torments more,

Which grievous are to me by so much more

As she inflicts them and doth wish them more.

O let thy mercy, merciless, be never more!

So shall sweet death to me be welcome, more

Than is to hungry beasts the grassy moor,

As she that to affliction adds yet more,

Becomes more cruel by still adding more!

Weary am I to speak of this word "more;"

Yet never weary she, to plague me more!