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66
Tired with all these, for restful death I cry, -As to behold desert a
beggar born,And needy nothing trimm'd in jollity,And purest faith
unhappily forsworn,And gilded honour shamefully misplac'd, And maiden
virtue rudely strumpeted,And right perfection wrongfully disgrac'd,And
strength by limping sway disabled,And art made tongue-tied by
autority,And folly (doctor-like) controlling skill,And simple truth
miscall'd simplicity, And captive good attending captain ill:Tired
with all these, from these would I be gone,Save that, to die, I leave
my love alone.."
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Frida Barak
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