The Pillar perished is wherto I lent

The piller pearisht is whearto I Lent
The strongest staye of myne unquyet mynde;
The lyke of it no man agayne can fynde
From East to west still seking though he went.
To myne unhappe, for happe away hath rent
Of all my joye the vearye bark and rynde;
And I (alas) by chaunce am thus assynde
Dearlye to moorne till death do it relent.
But syns that thus it is by destenye
What can I more but have a wofull hart,
My penne in playnt, my voyce in wofull crye,
My mynde in woe, my bodye full of smart,
And I my self my self alwayes to hate
Till dreadfull death do ease my dolefull state?
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