Deceitfull fancy why deludst thou me.
The dead aliue presenting ?
My ioyes faire image caru'd in shades I see,
O false yet sweet contenting ?
Why art not thou a substance like to me ?
Or I a shade to vanish hence with thee ?
2 Stay gentle obiect, my sence still deceiue,
With this thy kind elusion :
I die throgh madnes if my thoughts you leaue;
O strange ? yet sweet confusion ?
Poor blisselesse hart that feels such deepe annoy,
Only to loose the shadowe of thy ioy.
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www.harald-lillmeyer.kulturserver.de