Iohn Attey

T H E
F I R S T   B O O K E
OF
A Y R E S
OF FOVRE PARTS

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XI. Madame, for you I little grieue to dye.

  Madame, for you I little grieue to dye, 
  In, and to whom I liue, because I loue. 
  For if my ill doe please your dainty eye, 
  It cannot me displease, nor greatly moue. 
      Vnlesse a minde in you so cruell be, 
      To kill your selfe, To make an end of mee. 

  2  Onely I grieue that all my life is you, 
  Who by my death must needs in danger be : 
  For if I dye it cannot be but true, 
  The sweetest of my life must die with mee; 
      If that a minde in you so cruell be, 
      To kill yourselfe, to make an end of mee. 

  3  Wherefore, if of my life you haue no care, 
  Which I esteeme but onely for your sake : 
  Yet of your owne, which death it selfe would spare, 
  I am in hope you will some pitty take; 
      Vnlesse a minde in you so cruell be, 
      To kill your selfe, to make an end of mee. 
    

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