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SWeet
warriour when shall I haue peace with you?
High time
it is, this warre now ended were:
which I no lenger
can endure to sue,
ne your incessant battry more to
beare:
So weake my powres, so sore my wounds appeare,
that wonder is how I should liue a iot,
seeing
my hart through launched euery where
with thousand
arrowes, which your eies haue shot:
Yet shoot ye
sharpely still, and spare me not,
but glory thinke
to make these cruel stoures,
ye cruell one, what
glory can be got,
in slaying him that would liue
gladly yours?
Make peace therefore, and graunt me
timely grace.
that al my wounds will heale in little
space.
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