| 
					
						|  |  | Unstable 
						dream, according to the place, Be steadfast once, or 
						else at least be true.
 By tasted sweetness make me 
						not to rue
 The sudden loss of thy false feignèd 
						grace.
 By good respect in such a dangerous case
 Thou broughtest not her into this tossing mew
 But 
						madest my sprite live, my care to renew,
 My body in 
						tempest her succour to embrace.
 The body dead, the 
						sprite had his desire,
 Painless was th'one, th'other 
						in delight.
 Why then, alas, did it not keep it right,
 Returning, to leap into the fire?
 And where it was at 
						wish, it could not remain,
 Such mocks of dreams they 
						turn to deadly pain.
 
 
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