Dreams and imaginations

R. Jones

Dreams and imaginations

Are all the recreations

Absence can gaine me,

Dreames when I wake, confound me,

Thoughts for her sake doth wound me

Lest she disdaine me,

Then sinking let me lie,

Or thinking let me die,

Since love hath slaine me.

Dreames are but coward and doe

Much good they dare not stand to,

Asham'd of the morrow,

Thoughts like a child that winketh,

Hee's not beguild that thinketh,

Hath peir'st me thorow,

Both filling me with blisses,

Both killing me with kisses,

Dying in sorrow.

Dreames with their false pretences,

And thoughts confounds my senses

In the conclusion,

Which is like a glasse did shew mee

What came to passe and threw mee

Into confusion,

Shee made me leave all other,

Yet she has got another,

This was abusion.