161961O, how her eyes and tears did lend and borrow.

962Her eye seen in the tears, tears in her eye,

963Both crystals, where they viewed each other's sorrow,

964Sorrow that friendly sighs sought still to dry;

965 But like a stormy day, now wind, now rain,

966 Sighs dry her cheeks, tears make them wet again.

162967Variable passions throng her constant woe,

968As striving who should best become her grief.

969All entertained, each passion labors so

970That every present sorrow seemeth chief,

971 But none is best; then join they all together,

972 Like many clouds consulting for foul weather.

163973By this, far off, she hears some huntsman hallow,

974A nurse's song ne'er pleased her babe so well.

975The dire imagination she did follow

976This sound of hope doth labor to expel;

977 For now reviving joy bids her rejoice

978 And flatters her it is Adonis' voice.

164979Whereat her tears began to turn their tide,

980Being prisoned in her eye like pearls in glass;

981Yet sometimes falls an orient drop beside,

982Which her cheek melts, as scorning it should pass,

983 To wash the foul face of the sluttish ground,

984 Who is but drunken when she seemeth drowned.

165985O hard-believing love, how strange it seems

986Not to believe, and yet too credulous.

987Thy weal and woe are both of them extremes.

988Despair and hope makes thee ridiculous.

989 The one doth flatter thee in thoughts unlikely;

990 In likely thoughts the other kills thee quickly.