By Lady Mary Wroth
Grief, killing grief, have not my torments been
Already great and strong enough? but still
Thou dost increase, nay glory in mine il,
And woes new past, afresh new woes begin?
Am I the only purchase thou canst win?
Was I ordain'd to give despair her fill,
Or fittest I should mount misfortunes hill,
Who in the plain of Joy cannot live in?
If it be so, Grief come as welcome guest,
Since I must suffer for anothers rest;
Yet this (good grief) let me entreat of thee,
Use still thy force, but not from those I love
Let me all pains and lasting torments prove;
So I miss these, lay all thy weights on me.