Since she whom I lov'd hath payd her last debt
To nature and to hers and my good is dead
And her soule early into heaven ravished
Wholly on heavenly things my mind is sett
Here the admyring her my mind did whett
To seeke thee God so streames do shew their head
But though I have found thee and thou my thirst hast fed
A holy thirsty dropsy melts mee yet
But why should I begg more love when as thou
Dost wooe my soule for hers offring all thine
And dost not only feare least I allow
My love to saints and angels things divine
But in thy tender jealousy dost doubt
Least in the world fleshe yea devill put thee out
