I.
Divine Destroyer, pitty me no more,
 Or else more pitty me;
Give me more love, ah, quickly give me more,
 Or else more cruelty!
 For left thus as I am,
 My heart is ice and flame;
 And languishing thus, I
 Can neither live nor dye!

 II.
Your glories are eclipst, and hidden in the grave
 Of this indifferency;
And, Caelia, you can neither altars have,
 Nor I, a Diety:
 They are aspects divine,
 That still or smile, or shine,
 Or, like th' offended sky,
 Frowne death immediately.