Classic Poem

At last withdraw your cruelty,
Or let me die at once.
It is too much extremity,
Devised for the nonce,
To hold me thus alive,
In pain still for to drive.
What may I more sustain,
Alas, that die would fain,
And cannot die for pain?

For to the flame wherewith ye burn,
My thought and my desire,
When into ashes it should turn
My heart by fervent fire,
Ye send a stormy rain
That doth it quench again,
And make mine eyes express
The tears that do redress
My life in wretchedness.

Then when these should have drown'd
And overwhelm'd my heart,
The heart doth them confound,
Renewing all my smart.
Then doth flame increase,
My torment cannot cease,
My woe doth then revive,
And I remain alive,
With death still for to strive.

But if that ye would have my death,
And that ye would none other,
Shortly then for to spare my breath,
Withdraw the one or tother.
For thus your cruelness
Doth lett itself doubtless,
And it is reason why
No man alive, not I,
Of double death can die.