Rest awhile, you cruel cares.
    Be not more severe than love.
Beauty kills and beauty spares,
    And sweet smiles sad sighs remove:
       Laura, fair queen of my delight,
       Come grant me love in love's despite,
            And if I fail ever to honour thee,
               Let this heavenly light I see,
               Be as dark as hell to me.

If I speak, my words want weight,
    Am I mute, my heart doth break,
If I sigh, she fears deceit,
    Sorrow then for me must speak:
       Cruel unkind, with favour view
       The wound that first was made by you,
            And if my torments feigned be,
               Let this heavenly light I see,
               Be as dark as hell to me.

Never hour of pleasing rest,
    Shall revive my dying ghost,
Till my soul hath repossess'd
    The sweet hope which love hath lost:
       Laura redeem the soul that dies,
       By fury of thy murdering eyes:
            And if it prove unkind to thee,
              Let this heavenly light I see,
              Be as dark as hell to me.