Laura. The Toyes of a Traveller. Or. The Feast of Fancie - Part 3, 22
The snow-white Swan betokens brightsome Day,
The cole-blacke Crow of darkie Night is signe,
Thou Day or Night bring unto mee still may
With those bright lampes, those glistering stars of thine:
But (cruell thou) thy hart is bent so hard,
As I that Sunne can never see with eyes
(That wishd for Sun); from these my lights debard,
Nor ought discerne, but mists in foggie wise.
Then since I live in woe and (blinde) naught see,
A Crow not Swan thou still shalt be to mee.
The cole-blacke Crow of darkie Night is signe,
Thou Day or Night bring unto mee still may
With those bright lampes, those glistering stars of thine:
But (cruell thou) thy hart is bent so hard,
As I that Sunne can never see with eyes
(That wishd for Sun); from these my lights debard,
Nor ought discerne, but mists in foggie wise.
Then since I live in woe and (blinde) naught see,
A Crow not Swan thou still shalt be to mee.
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