111771O hatefull, vaporous, and foggy night,

772Since thou art guilty of my curelesse crime:

773Muster thy mists to meete the Easterne light,

774Make war against proportion'd course of time.

775Or if thou wilt permit the Sunne to clime

776 His wonted height, yet ere he go to bed,

777 Knit poysonous clouds about his golden head.

112778With rotten damps rauish the morning aire,

779Let their exhald vnholdsome breaths make sicke

780The life of puritie, the supreme faire,

781Ere he arriue his wearie noone-tide pricke,

782And let thy mustie vapours march so thicke,

783 That in their smoakie rankes, his smothred light

784 May set at noone, and make perpetuall night.

113785Were TARQVIN night, as he is but nights child,

786The siluer shining Queene he would distaine;

787Her twinckling handmaids to (by him defil'd)

788Through nights black bosom shuld not peep again.

789So should I haue copartners in my paine,

790 And fellowship in woe doth woe asswage,

791 As Palmers chat makes short their pilgrimage.