VI. Lady, what time I seek in mournful note

Robert Tofte (1561–1620)

LADY, what time I seek in mournful note

To show mine agonies and bloody moan,

My Voice doth fail; and hoarse and harsh my throat:

And this doth come through you, through you alone

The whilst I think, by means of you in Song,

To mitigate some part of this my smart;

Instead thereof, you do me double wrong:

And with a glance you take away my Heart.

So that I find great hurt by this your theft:

Since where, before but Voice, now Heart, ’s bereft.