The Lover to his Bed, with describing of his unquiet State

THE RESTFUL place, renewer of my smart,

The labours’ salve, increasing my sorrow,

The body’s ease, and troubler of my heart,

Quieter of mind, mine unquiet foe,

Forgetter of pain, rememberer of my woe,

The place of sleep, wherein I do but wake,

Besprent with tears, my bed, I thee forsake.

The frosty snows may not redress my heat,

Nor heat of sun abate my fervent cold,

I know nothing to ease my pains so great;

Each cure causeth increase by twenty fold,

Renewing cares upon my sorrows old,

Such overthwart effects in me they make:

Besprent with tears, my bed for to forsake.

But all for nought, I find no better ease

In bed or out: this most causeth my pain,

Where I do seek how best that I may please;

My lost labour, alas, is all in vain:

My heart once set, I cannot it refrain;

No place from me my grief away can take;

Wherefore with tears, my bed, I thee forsake.