Lady Mary Wroth

[Bee you all pleas’d, your pleasures grieve not me]

Bee you all pleas’d, your pleasures grieve not me;
    Doe you delight?  I envy not your joy:
    Have you content?  contentment with you be;
    Hope you for blisse?  hope still, and still enjoy.
 
Let sad misfortune, haplesse me destroy,
    Leave crosses to rule me, and still rule free:
    While all delights their contraries imploy,
    To keepe good backe, and I but torments see.
 
Joyes are bereav’d me, harmes doe only tarry,
    Despaire takes place, disdaine hath got the hand:
    Yet firme love holds my senses in such band,
    As (since despised) I with sorrow marry.
 
Then if with griefe I now must coupled bee,
Sorrow Ile wed; Despaire thus governes mee.
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