[How Glowworme-like the Sun doth now appeare,]

How Glowworme-like the Sun doth now appeare,
Cold beames doe from his glorious face descend
Which shewes his daies, and force draw to an end,
Or that to leave taking, his time grows neere.
This day his face did seeme but pale, though cleare,
The reason is, he to the North must lend
His light, and warmth must to that Climat bend,
Whose frozen parts cowld not loves heat hold deare
Alas, if thou bright Sunne to part from hence
Grieve so, what must I haplesse who from thence,
Where thou dost goe my blessing shall attend;
Thou shalt enioy that sight for which I dye,
And in my heart thy fortunes doe envy,
Yet grieve, I'le love thee, for this state may mend.