Rest awhile, you cruel cares, Be not more severe than love. Beauty kills and beauty spares, And sweet smiles sad sighs remove. Laura, fair queen of my delight, Come grant me love in love's despite, And if I ever fail to honour thee, Let this heav'nly light I see Be as dark as hell to me. If I speak, my words want weight, Am I mute, my heart doth break, If I sigh, she fears deceit, Sorrow then for me must speak. Cruel unkind, with favour view The wound that first was made by you, And if my torments feigned be, Let this heav'nly light I see Be as dark as hell to me. Never hour of pleasing rest Shall revive my dying ghost, Till my soul hath repossessed The sweet hope which love hath lost. Laura, redeem the soul that dies By fury of thy murd'ring eyes, And if it proves unkind to thee, Let this heav'nly light I see Be as dark as hell to me.
- by Anonymous / Unidentified Author [author's text not yet checked against a primary source]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 27
Word count: 168