How ken I then return in happy plight
That am debarred the benefit of rest?
When dayís oppression is not eased by night
But day by night,and night by day, oppressed?
And each, though enemies to eitherís rein,
Do in consent shake hands to torture me,
The one by toil, the other to complain
How far I toil, still farther off from thee.
I tell the day to please him thou art bright
And dost him grace when clouds do blot the heaven:
So flatter I the swart-complessioned night
When sparkling stars twire not thou gildíst the even
But day doth dayly draw my sorrows longer,
And night doth nightly make griefís strength seem stronger