Theseus, O Theseus, hark!
but yet in vain;
Alas deserted I complain;
it was some neighb'ring Rock,
more soft then he, 
whose hollow bowels pitty'd me,
and beating back that false & cruell name,
did comfort and revenge my shame,
the faithless whither wilt thou flye?
Stones dare not harbour cruelty.

Tell me ye Gods, 
who e're ye are,
why, O why, made ye him so faire?
& tell me wretch why thou 
mad'st not thy selfe more true?
Beauty from him might copies take,
& more majestick Heroes make,
and falshood learn a wile from him too,
to beguile: restore my Clue,
'tis here most due,
for 'tis a Labrinth of more subtle Art,
to have so faire a face, so fowle a heart:

The rav'nous Vulter tear his breast,
the rowling stone disturbe his rest;
let him next feele Ixions wheel,
& add one fable more to,
cursing Poets store, 
& then yet rather let him live 
& twine his woof of days
with some thread stoln from mine;
but if you'l torture him,
how e're torture my heart, 
you'l find him there

Till mine eyes drank up his and his drank mine,
I ne'r thought souls might kiss, & spirits joyne:
Pictures till then, took me as much as men,
Nature and Art moveing alike my heart;
but his faire visage made me find pleasures and fears,
hopes, sighs and tears, as severall seasons of the mind.

Should thine Eye Venus on his dwell,
thou wouldst invite him to thy shell,
& caught by that live jet,
venture the second net,
and after all thy dangers faithlesse he;
shouldst thou but slumber,
would forsake en'n thee.

The streams so court the yielding bankes,
and gliding thence ne're pay their thankes,
the winds so woo the flowers,
whisp'ring among fresh bowers, 
and having rob'd them of their smels,
flye thence perfum'd to other Cels;
this is familiar hate, to smile, & kill, 
though nothing pleas thee,
yet my ruin will: 
Death hover, hover, o're me then,
waves let your christall womb,
be both my fate and tomb,
I'le sooner trust the sea then men.

Yet for revenge to heav'n I'le call,
and breath one curse before I fall;
proud of two Conquests, Minotaure and me,
that by my faith, this by thy perjurie.
May'st thou forget to wing thy ships with white,
that the black sails may to the longing sight 
of thy gray Father tell thy fate,
and he bequeath that sea his name,
falling like me.

Nature & Love thus brand thee,
whilst I dye, 'cause thou forsak'st Aegeus,
'cause thou draw'st nigh.
And ye, O Nimphs below who sit,
in whose swift floods his vows he writ,
snatch a sharp Diamond from your richer Mines,
& in some Mirror grave these sadder lines;
which let some God convey to him 
that so he may in that both read at once
and see those lookes that caus'd my destiny.

In Thetis Armes I Ariadne sleep, drown'd:
First in mine own tears, then in the deep:
Twice banish'd, first by love, and then by hate,
the life that I preserv'd became my fate, 
who leaving all was by him left alone,
that from a Monster fre'd, himselfe prov'd one:
Thus then I F--- but looke, O mine eyes,
be now true spies, yonder, yonder comes my dear, 
now my wonder, once my fear;
see Satyrs dance along in a confused throng,
whilst horns and pipes rude noice,
do mad their lusty joyes;
Roses his forhead crown,
& that recrowns the flowers;
where he walks up and down,
he makes the Desarts Bowers;
the Ivy and the Grape hide not,
adorne his shape, 
and green leaves cloath his waving Rod,
'tis he; 'tis either Theseus or some God.