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 fail ever to honour thee,
 Let this heavenly 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 heavenly light I see,
 Be as dark as hell to me.

 Never hour of pleasing rest
 Shall revive my dying gost,
 Till my soul hath repossess'd
 The sweet hope which love hath lost:
 Laura redeem the soul that dies,
 By fury of thy murdering eyes:
 And if it prove unkind to thee,
 Let this heavenly light I see,
 Be as dark as hell to me