Still have I liv’d in grief, in hope, in terror,
The circle of my sorrows never ending.
Yet cannot leave her love that holds me hateful;
Her eyes exact it, though her heart disdains me;
See what reward he hath that serves th’ungrateful;
So true and loyal love no favors gains me.
Still must I whet my young desires abated,
Upon the flint of such a heart rebelling;
And all in vain, her pride is so innated,
She yields no place at all for pity’s dwelling.
Oft have I told her that my soul did love her,
And that with tears, yet all this will not move her.