All Night I weepe, all Day I cry, Ay me, <br />I still doe wish, though yet deny, ay me; <br />I sigh, I mourne, I say that still, <br />I only am the store for ill, ay me. <br /> <br />In coldest hopes I freeze, yet burne, ay me, <br />From flames I strive to fly, yet turne, ay me: <br />From griefe I hast, but sorrowes hye, <br />And on my heart all woes do lye, ay me. <br /> <br />From contraries I seeke to run, ay me, <br />But contraries I cannot shun, ay me: <br />For they delight their force to trye, <br />And to Despaire my thoughts doe ty, ay me. <br /> <br />Whither alasse then shall I goe, ay me, <br />When as Despaire all hopes outgoe, ay me: <br />If to the Forrest Cupid hies, <br />And my poore soule to his law tyes, ay me. <br /> <br />To the Court: O no. He cryes fye, ay me, <br />There no true love you shall espy, ay me: <br />Leave that place to falsest Lovers, <br />Your true love all truth discovers, ay me, <br />Then quiet rest, and no more prove, ay me, <br />All places are alike to Love, ay me: <br />And constant be in this begun, <br />Yet say, till Life with Love be dunn Ay me.<br /><br />Mary Wroth<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/14-song-2/
