Edmund Spenser - Amoretti: Sonnet 25 lyrics

How long shall this lyke dying lyfe endure, And know no end of her owne mysery: but wast and weare away in termes unsure, twixt feare and hope depending doubtfully. Yet better were attonce to let me die, and shew the last ensample of your pride: then to torment me thus with cruelty, to prove your powre, which I too wel have tride. But yet if in your hardned brest ye hide, a close intent at last to shew me grace: then all the woes and wrecks which I abide, as meanes of blisse I gladly wil embrace. And wish that more and greater they might be, that greater meede at last may turne to mee.