1 Where shall I refuge seeke if you refuse mee ?
In you my hope, in you my fortune lyes :
In you my life though you vniust accuse me,
My seruice scorne, and merit vnderprise.
Oh bitter griefe, that exile is become
Reward for faith, and pittie deafe and dumbe.
2 Why should my firmnesse sinde a feare so wau'ring ?
My simple vowes, my loue you entertain'd,
Without desert the same againe disfau'ring :
Yet I my word and passion hold vnstain'd.
Oh wretched me, that my chiefe ioy should breede
My onely griefe, and kindnesse pitty neede.
Online text copyright ©, Harald Lillmeyer