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Mary Wroth's Poetry: An Electronic Edition

Wroth Poem - F13 - Cloy'd wth the torments of a tedious night

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.12.

Cloy'd wth the torments of a tedious night
    I wish for day; wch come, I hope for ioy:
    When croſs I finde new tortures to destroy
    my woe=kil'd hart, first hurt by miſchiefs might,

Then cry for night, and once more day takes flight
    and brightnes gon; what rest should heere inioy
    Vſurped is; hate will her force imploy;
    Night can nott griefe intombe though black as spite

My thoughts are ſad; her face as ſad doth ſeeme:
    My paines are long; Her houers t├Ždious are:
    My griefe is great, and endles is my care:
    Her face, her force, and all of woes esteeme:

Then wellcome Night, and farwell flattring day
wch all hopes breed, and yett our ioyes delay;
12.

Cloyed with the torments of a tedious night
    I wish for day; which come, I hope for joy:
    When cross I find new tortures to destroy
    My woe-killed heart, first hurt by mischief's might,

Then cry for night, and once more day takes flight
    And brightness gone; what rest should here enjoy
    Usurped is; hate will her force employ;
    Night cannot grief entomb though black as spite

My thoughts are sad; her face as sad doth seem:
    My pains are long; her hours tedious are:
    My grief is great, and endless is my care:
    Her face, her force, and all of woes esteem:

Then welcome Night, and farewell flattering day
    Which all hopes breed, and yet our joys delay.


For parallels see AS 89: 'Now that of absence the most irksome night/
With darkest shade doth overcome my day'; RS 19: 'When other creatures all, each in their kind,/Comfort of light, quiet from darkness fetch'. Roberts [P13] also notes Spenser, Amoretti 87, which includes the lines: 'I wish that night the noyous day would end:/
and when as night hath us of light forlorn,/ I wish that day would shortly reascend.'
12.

Cloy'd with the torments of a tedious night,
    I wiſh for day; which come, I hope for ioy:
    When croſſe I finde, new tortures to deſtroy,
    My woe-kild heart, firſt hurt by miſchiefs might.

Then crye for night, and once more day takes flight.
    And brightneſſe gone, what reſt ſhould heere inioy
    Vſurped is: Hate will her force imploy;
    Night cannot Griefe intombe though blacke as ſpite.

My thoughts are ſad, her face as ſad doth ſeeme;
    My paines are long, her howers tedious are;
    My griefe is great, and endleſſe is my care;
    Her face, her force, and all of woes eſteeme.

Then welcome Night, and farewell flattering day,
Which all hopes breed, and yet our ioyes delay.
12.

Cloyed with the torments of a tedious night
    I wish for day; which come, I hope for joy:
    When cross I find new tortures to destroy
    My woe-killed heart, first hurt by mischief's might,

Then cry for night, and once more day takes flight
    And brightness gone; what rest should here enjoy
    Usurped is; hate will her force employ;
    Night cannot grief entomb though black as spite

My thoughts are sad; her face as sad doth seem:
    My pains are long; her hours tedious are:
    My grief is great, and endless is my care:
    Her face, her force, and all of woes esteem:

Then welcome Night, and farewell flattering day
    Which all hopes breed, and yet our joys delay.



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