How I grieve that I am well!
All my Health was in my sickness, 
Go then Destiny and tell
Very Death is in this quickness. 

Such a Fate rules over me
That I glory when I languish, 
And do bless the remedy
That doth feed, not quench my anguish. 

'Twas a gentle warmth that ceas'd
In the Vizard of a fever; 
But I fear now I am eas'd
All the flames since I must heave her.

Joys though withered, circled me, 
When unto her voice inured, 
Like those who by Harmony
Only can be throughly Cured. 

Sweet sure was that Malady, 
Whilst the pleasant Angle hover'd,
Which ceasing they are all as I, 
Angry that they are recover'd. 

And as men in Hospitals
That are maim'd, are lodg'd and dined;
But when once their danger falls, 
Ah, th' are healed to be pined! 

Fainting so I might before
Sometime have the leave to hand her,
But lusty, am beat out of dore, 
And for Love compell'd to wander.