by William Alexander
When Loue spide death like to triumph ore me,
That had bene such a pillar of his throne;
And that all Æsculapius hopes were gone,
Whose drugs had not the force to set me free,
He labour'd to reduce the Fates decree,
And thus bespake the tyrant that spares none:
Thou that wast neuer mou'd with worldlings mone,
To saue this man for my request agree:
And I protest that he shall dearely buy
The short prolonging of a wretched life:
For it shall be inuolu'd in such a strife,
That he shall neuer liue, but euer die.
O what a cruell kindnesse Cupid crau'd,
Who for to kill me oft, my life once sau'd.
Last updated January 14, 2019