Against his Tongue that failed to utter his Suits

BECAUSE I still kept thee from lies and blame,

And to my power always thee honoured,

Unkind tongue! to ill hast thou me rend’red,

For such desert to do me wreke and shame.

In need of succour most when that I am,

To ask reward, thou stand’st like one afraid:

Alway most cold, and if one word be said,

As in a dream, unperfect is the same.

And ye salt tears, against my will each night

That are with me, when I would be alone;

Then are ye gone when I should make my moan:

And ye so ready sighs to make me shright.

Then are ye slack when that ye should outstart

And only doth my look declare my heart.