text: A COMPLAINT BY NIGHT OF THE LOVER\nNOT BELOVED     \nAlas! so all things now do hold their peace!     \nHeaven and earth disturbed in no thing     \nThe beasts, the air, the birds their song do cease,     \nThe nightés car the stars about do bring.   car: chariot \nCalm is the sea. The waves work less and less:     \nSo am not I, whom love, alas! doth wring,     \nBringing before my face the great increase     \nOf my desires, whereat I weep and sing,     \nIn joy and woe, as in a doubtful case.     \nFor my sweet thoughts sometime do pleasure bring;     \nBut by and by, the cause of my disease     \nGives me a pang, that inwardly doth sting,     \n     When that I think what grief it is again,     \n     To live and lack the thing should rid my pain.     \n      \nA VOW TO LOVE FAITHFULLY, HOWSOEVER\nHE BE REWARDED     \nSet me whereas the sun doth parch the green,     \nOr where his beams do not dissolve the ice;     \nIn temperate heat, where he is felt and seen;     \nIn presence prest of people, mad, or wise;   presence prest: amidst a great crowd \nSet me in high, or yet in low degree;     \nIn longest night, or in the shortest day;     \nIn clearest sky, or where clouds thickest be;     \nIn lusty youth, or when my hairs are gray:     \nSet me in heaven, in earth, or else in hell,     \nIn hill, or dale, or in the foaming flood;     \nThrall, or at large, alive whereso I dwell,   thrall: imprisoned \nSick, or in health, in evil fame or good,     \n     Hers will I be; and only with this thought     \n     Content myself, although my chance be nought