Forbear dark night, my joys now bud againe, Lately grown dead, while cold aspects did chill The root at heart, and my chief hope quite k**, And thunders struck me in my pleasures' waine Then I alas with bitter sobs, and pain, Privately groan'd, my Fortunes present ill; All light of comfort dimm'd, woes in prides fill, With strange increase of grief, I griev'd in vain. And most, when as a memory too good Molested me, which still as witness stood, Of those best days, in former time I knew: Late gone as wonders past, like the great Snow, Melted and wasted, with what, change must know: Now back the life comes where as once it grew.