Come again,
Sweet love doth now invite
Thy graces that refrain
To do me due delight,
To see, to hear, to touch, to kiss, to die
With thee again in sweetest sympathy.

Come again,
That I may cease to mourn,
Through thy unkind disdain;
For now left and forlorn,
I sit, I sigh, I weep, I faint, I die
In deadly pain and endless misery.

All the day
the sun that lends me shine
by frowns doth cause me pine,
and feeds me with delay;
her smiles, my springs, that makes, my joy, to grow
her frowns the winter of my woe