Leaue prolonging thy distresse

Leaue prolonging thy distresse:

All delayes afflict the dying.

Many lost sighes long I spent, to her for mercy crying;

But now, vaine mourning, cease:

Ile dye, and mine owne griefes release.

Thus departing from this light

To those shades that end all sorrow,

Yet a small time of complaint, a little breat Ile borrow,

To tell my once delight

I dye alone through her despight.