In darknesse let me dwell, the ground shall sorrow be,
The roofe despaire to barre all chearefull light from me,
The walles of marble black that moistned stil shall weepe,
My musicke hellish iarring sounds to banish friendly sleepe.
Thus wedded to my woes, and bedded in my tombe,
O let me dying liue till death doth come.
My dainties griefe shall be, and teares my poisned wine,
My sighes the aire, throgh which my panting hart shall pine:
My robes my mind shall sute exceeding blackest night,
My study shall be tragicke thoughtes sad fancy to delight.
Pale Ghosts and frightful shades shall my acquaintance be:
O thus my haples ioy I haste to thee.
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