text: Come darkest night, becoming sorrow best;
      Light; leave thy light; fitt for a lightsome soule;
      Darknes doth truly sure with mee oprest
      Whom absence power doth from mirthe controle:
  
  The very trees with hanging heads condole
      Sweet sommers parting, and of leaves distrest
      In dying coulers make a griefe-full role;
      Soe much (alas) to sorrow are they prest,
  
  Thus of dead leaves her farewell carpetts made:
      Theyr fall, theyr branches, all theyr mournings prove;
      With leavles, naked bodies, whose huese vade
      From hopefull greene, to wither in theyr love,
  
  If trees, and leaves for absence, mourners bee
  Noe mervaile that I grieve, who like want see.