_Wearisome is my life to me, Because I cannot once againe returne; Unto the place which made me first to mourne._
_Nothing I know, yet feele a powerfull fire, Burning within my brest, Through deepe desire; To be once more where first I felt unrest, Which cannot be exprest. O my sole good! O my best happinesse! Why am I thus restrainde? Is there no comfort in this wretchednesse? Then let me live content, to be thus painde. Wearisome is my life to me, &c._
_I cannot tell what was that rare delight, Which first enflamde my soule, And gave command in spight, That I should find no ease by day or night, But still live in controule. I see, I heare, and feele a kinde of blisse, Yet find no forme at all: Other in their desire, finde blessednesse, But I have none, nor thinke I ever shall. Wearisome is my life to me, &c._
_Tell me if I may hope in following dayes, To have but one poore sight, Of those bright Sunny rayes, Dazeling my sence, did o'recome me quite, Bequeath'd to wandring wayes. If I be posted off and may not prove. To have the smallest grace: Or but to know, that this proceeds from love, Why should I live despisde in every place? Wearisome is my life to me, &c._
_Me thinkes milde favour whispers in mine eare, And bids me not despaire; There will a time appeare To quell and quite confound consuming care, And joy surmount proud feare. In hope that gracious time will come at length, To cheare my long dismay: My spirits reassume your former strength, And never dread to see that joyfull day. Wearisome is my life to me, Because I cannot once againe returne; Unto the place which made me first to mourne._
This Song gave occasion to the whole Company, to imagine, that some new and pleasing apprehension of Love, constrained Madame _Philomena_ to sing in this manner. And because (by the discourse thereof) it plainely appeared, that shee had felt more then shee saw, shee was so much the more happy, and the like was wished by all the rest. Wherefore, after the Song was ended; the Queene remembring, that the next day following was Friday, turning her selfe graciously to them all, thus she spake.
You know noble Ladies, and you likewise most noble Gentlemen, that to morrow is the day consecrated to the Passion of our blessed Lord and Saviour, which (if you have not forgotten it, as easily you cannot) we devoutly celebrated, Madame _Neiphila_ being then Queene, ceasing from all our pleasant discoursing, as we did the like on the Saturday following, sanctifying the sacred Sabboth, in due regard of it selfe. Wherefore, being desirous to imitate precedent good example, which in worthy manner shee began to us all: I hold it very decent and necessary, that we should asttaine to morrow, and the day ensuing, from recounting any of our pleasant Novels, reducing to our memories, what was done (as on those dayes) for the salvation of our soules. This holy and Religious motion made by the Queene, was commendably allowed by all the assembly, and therefore, humbly taking their leave of her, and an indifferent part of the night being already spent; severally they betooke themselves to their Chambers.