text: Alas, so all things now do hold their peace!
     Heaven and earth disturbed in no thing;
  The beasts, the air, the birds their song do cease,
     The nightes car the stars about doth bring;
  Calm is the sea; the waves work less and less:
     So am not I, whom love, alas! doth wring,
  Bringing before my face the great increase
     Of my desires, whereat I weep and sing,
  In joy and woe, as in a doubtful case.
     For my sweet thoughts sometime do pleasure bring:
  But by and by, the cause of my disease
     Gives me a pang that inwardly doth sting,
  When that I think what grief it is again
  To live and lack the thing should rid my pain.   