Go crystal tears, like to the morning show'rs
    And sweetly weep into thy lady's breast
And as the dews revive the drooping flow'rs
    So let your drops of pity be address'd
To quicken up the thoughts of my desert
Which sleeps too sound whilst I from her depart

Haste, restless sighs, and let your burning breath
   Dissolve the ice of her indurate heart
Whose frozen rigour like forgetful Death
   Feels never any touch of my desert:
Yet sighs and tears to her I sacrifice
Both from a spotless heart and patient eyes