Long time I did thy cruelties detest,
And blaz'd thy rigor in a thousand lines;
But now through my complaints thy vertue shines,
That was but working all things for the best:
Thou of my rash affections held'st the raines,
And spying dangerous sparkes come from my fires,
Didst wisely temper my enflam'd desires,
With some chast fauours, mixt with sweet disdaines:
And when thou saw'st I did all hope despise,
And look'd like one that wrestled with despaire,
Then of my safetie thy exceeding care,
Shew'd that I kept thine heart, thou but thine eyes:
For whil'st thy reason did thy fancies tame,
I saw the smoke, although thou hidst the flame.
William Alexander
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