The Invocation

THE INVOCATION Ye juster Powers of Love and Fate, Give me the reason why A lover crost And all hopes lost May not have leave to die.

It is but just; and Love needs must Confess it is his part, When she doth spy One wounded lie, To pierce the other's heart.

But yet if he so cruel be To have one breast to hate, If I must live And thus survive, How far more cruel's Fate?

In this same state I find too late I am; and here's the grief: Cupid can cure, Death heal, I'm sure, Yet neither sends relief.

To live or die, beg only I: Just Powers, some end me give; And traitor-like Thus force me not Without a heart to live.