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| How can I then return in happy plight, | 1 |
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| That am debarre'd the benefit of rest? |
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| When day's oppression is not eas'd by night, |
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| But day by night and night by day oppress'd, |
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| And each, though enemies to either's reign, | 5 |
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| Do in consent shake hands to torture me, |
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| The one by toil, the other to complain |
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| How far I toil, still farther off from thee. |
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| I tell the day, to please him thou art bright, |
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| And dost him grace when clouds do blot the heaven: | 10 |
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| So flatter I the swart-complexion'd night, |
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| When sparkling stars twire not thou gild'st the even. |
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 But day doth daily draw my sorrows longer, |
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| And night doth nightly make grief's length seem stronger. |
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