withered wrinckles in my carefull browes Figure from whence they drew those crooked markes Downe from the Thracean mountaines okes of might And loftie firres into the valley fall Sure signe where Boreas hath vsurp'te his right And that long there no Syluanes dally shall Fieldes with prodigious inundatious drown'de For Neptunes rage with Amphitrite weepe My lookes and passions likewise shewe my wounde And how some fayre regard did strike it deepe These braunches blasted trees and fieldes so watred For wrinckles sighes and teares fore shew thine hatred SONNET LXX What can these wrinckles and vayne teares portende But thine hard fauour and indurate hart What shew these sighes which from my soule I send But endlesse smoake raiz'd from a fierie smart Canst thou not pittie my deepe wounded brest Canst thou not frame those eyes to cast a smile Wylt thou with no sweet sentence make me blest To make amendes wilt thou not sport a while Shall we not once with our opposed eyne In inter change send golden dartes rebated With short reflection twixt thy browes and mine Whilest loue with thee of my greefes hath debated Those eyes of loue were made for loue to see And cast reguardes on others not on mee SONNET LXXI Those haires of Angels gold thy natures treasure For thou by nature Angellike art framed Those louely browes broade bridges of sweet pleasure Arche two cleare springs of graces gratious named There graces infinite do bathe and sporte Vnder on both sides those two pretious hilles Where Phoeb'e and Venus haue a seuerall forte Her couche with snowie lillyes Phoebe filles But Venus with redde Roses her 's adorneth There they with silent tokens doe dispute VVhilst Phoebe Venus Venus Phoebe scorneth And all the graces Iudgers there sit mute To giue their verdict till great Ioue said this Dianaes arrowes wounde not like thy kisse SONNET LXXII My mistresse bewtie matched with the graces Twix't Phoeb ' and Iuno should be Iudged there Where she with maske had vayl'd the louely places And graces in like sort I masked were But when their louely bewties were disclos'd This Nymphe quoth Iuno all the graces passeth For bewteous fauours in her face dispos'd Loues goddesse in loues graces she surpasseth She doth not passe the graces Phoebe sade Though in her cheekes the graces richly sitte For they be subiectes to her bewtie made The glorie for this fayre Nymphe is most fitte There in her cheekes the graces blush for shame That in her cheekes to striue the subiectes came SONNET LXXIII Why did rich nature graces grâ—…nt to thee Since thou art such a niggarâ—… of thy grace Or how can graces in thy body bee Where neither they nor pittie finde a place Ah they bene handmaydes to thy bewties furie Making thy face to tyrannise on men Condemn'd before thy bewtie by loues Iurie And by thy frownes adiudg'd to sorrowes den Graunt me some grace for thou with grace art wealthie And kindely mayst afforde some gratious thing Mine hopes all as my minde weake and vnhealthie All her lookes gratious yet no grace do bring To me poore wretche yea be the graces theare But I the furies in my brest doe beare SONNET LXXIIII Cease ouer-tyred muses to complayne In vayne thou powers out wordes in vayne thy teares In vayne thou writes thy verses all in vayne For to the rockes and wall which neuer heares Thou speakes and sendes complaintes which finde no grace But why compaire I thee to rockes and walles Yes thou discendes from stones and rockes by race ' But rockes will answere to the latter calles Yea rockes will speake each sentences last word And in each sillabe of that word agree But thou nor last nor first wilt me afford Hath pride or nature bred this fault in thee Nature and pride haue wrought in thee these euils For women are by nature proude as diuels SONNET LXXV Loue is a name too louely for the god He naked goes redde colour'd in his skinne And bare all as a boy fitte for a rod Hence into Africke there seeke out thy kinne Amongst the Moores and swarthie men of Inde Me thou of ioyes and sweet content hast hindred Hast thou consum'd me and art of my kinde Hast thou inâ—…ag'd me yet art of my kindered Nay Ismarus or Rhodope thy father Or craggie Caucasus thy crabbed sier Vesuuius else or was it Aetna rather For thou how many doest consume with fier Fierce Tygres VVolues and Panthers gaue the sucke For louâ—…ly Venus had not such â—…uill lucke SONNET LXXVI Be blind mine eyes which saw that stormie frowne Wither long-watring lippes which may not kisse Pyne armes which wisht ' for sweet embraces missee And vpright parts of pleasure fall you downe VVast wanton tender thighes consume for this To her thighes elmes that you were not made vynes And my long pleasure in her body grafted But at my pleasure her sweet thoughtes repines Mine hart with her faire colours should be wafted Throughout this Oceane of my deepe dispaier VVhy doe I longer liue but me prepaier My life togather with my ioyes to finish And long eare this had I dyed with my care But hope of ioyes to come did all dimâ—…ish SONNET LXXVII How can I liue in mindes or bodies health VVhen all foure elementes my greefes conspier Of all harts ioyes depriuing me be stelth All yeelding poysons to my long desier The fire with heates extreames mine hart enraging Water in teares from dispaires fountaine flowing My soule in sighes ayer to loues soule ingaging My fancies coales earthes melancholie blowing Thus these by nature made for my releefe Through that bold charge of thine Imperious eye Turne all their graces into bitter greefe And I were dead should any of them dye And they my bodies substance all be sicke It followes then I cannot long be quicke SONNET LXXVIII The proudest Planet in his highest Spheare Saturne inthronist in thy frowning browes Next aufull Ioue thy maiestie doth beare And vnto dreadfull Mars thy courage bowes Drawne from thy noble grandfathers of might Among'st the laurell crowned Poetes sweete And sweet Musitions take the place by right For Phoebus with thy graces thought it meete Venus doth sit vpon thy lippes and chinne And Hermes hath inrich't thy wittes deuine Phoebe with chast desiers thine hart did winne The Planettes thus to thee their powers resigne Whom Planets honour thus is any such My muse then can not honour her too much SONNET LXXIX Couetous eyes what did you late behold My riuall graced with a sunne-bright smile Where he with secret signes was sweetly told Her thoughtes with winkes which all men might beguile Audacious did I see him kisse that hand Which holdes the reanes of mine vnbridled hart And softely wringing it did closely stand Courting with loue termes and in louers art Next with his fingers kist he toucht her middle Then saucic with presumption vncontrolld To hers from his eyes sent regardes hy riddle At length he kist her cheeke ah me so bold To bandie with bel-gardes
a shadow can not well be made Was answer'd for shades shadowes none can eye them 〈◊〉 â—…on proues 〈◊〉 argument for me That my greefes image I can not set out Which might with liuely coloures blazed be Wherefore since nought can bring the meanes about That thou my sorrowes cause should vewe throughout Thou wilt not pitie me but this was it Zeuxes had neither skill nor colours fit SONNET XV. Where or to whom then shall I make complaint By guilefull wyles of myne hartes guide depriued With rightes iniustice and vnkind constraint Barr'd from her loues which my desertes atchiued This though thou sought to choake farre more reuiued Within myne hartlesse brest left almost fencelesse Oh make exchange surrender thine for myne Least that my body voyde of guide be fencelesse So shalt thou pawne to me signe for a signe Of thy sweete conscience when I shall resigne Thy loues large Charter and thy bondes againe Oh but I feare myne hopes be voyde or mencelesse No course is left which might thy loues attaine Whether with sighes I sewe or teares complaine SONNET XVI Yea that accursed deede before insealed Is argument of thy first constancie Which if thou hadst to me before reuealed I had not pleaded in such feruencie Yet this delightes and makes me triumph much That myne hart in her body lyes imprisoned For mongst all bay-crown'd conquerors no such Can make the slauish captiue bost him conquered Except Parthenophe whose fiery gleames Like Ioues swift lightning rageth which rockes pearseth Heating them in-lye with his soddeyne beames And secret golden mynes with melting searâ—…eth Eft-soones with cannon his drad rage rehearseth Yet nought seemes scortched in apparant sight So first she secret burnt then did affright SONNET XVII How then succeedeth that amid this woe Where reasons sence doth from my soule denide By these vaine lines my fittes be specified Which from their endlesse Ocean dayly floe Where was it borne whence did this humour groe Which long obscur'd with melancholyes mist Inspires my gyddie braynes vnpurified So liuely with sound reasons to persist In framing tunefull Elegies and Hymnes For her whose name my Sonnets note so â—…rimmes That nought but her chast name so could assist And my muse in first tricking out her lymmes Found in her liuelesse shadow such delight That yet she shadowes her when as I write SONNET XVIII Write write helpe helpe sweet muse and neuer cease In endlesse labours pennes and papers tyer Vntill I purchase my long-wish't desier Braynes with my reason neuer rest in peace Wast breathlesse wordes and breathfull sighes increase Till of my woes remorsefull you espye her Till she with me be burnt in equall fier I neuer will from labour wittes release My sences neuer shall in quiet rest Till thou be pitifull and loue alike And if thou neuer pitie my distresses Thy crueltie with endlesse force shall strike Vpon my witts to ceaselesse writs addrest My cares in hope of some reuenge this lesses SONNET XIX Imperious Ioue with sweet lipp'd Mercurie Learned Minerua Phoebus god of light Vain-swelling Bacchus Venus queene of bewtie With light foote Phoebe lampe of silent night These haue with diuerse dieties beside Borrow'd the shapes of many a mortall creature But faire Parthenophe grac'd with the pride Of each of these sweet Queene of louely feature As tho she were with pearle of all their skill By heauens cheefe nature garnished she knittes In wrath Ioues forehead with sweet noting quill She matcheth Mercurie Mineruaes wittes In goldie-lockes bright Tytan Bacchus syttes In her hauds conduict pypes sweet Venus face Dianaes legge the tyrian buskines grace SONNET XX. These eyes thy bewties tenants pay dew teares For ocupation of myne hart thy free hold In tenour of loues seruice if thou behold With what exaction it is helde through feares And yet thy rentes extorted dayly beares Thou would not thus consume my quiets gold And yet thr couetous thou be to make Thy bewtie rich with renting me so roughlie And at such sommes thou neuer thought doest take But still consumes me then thou doest misguide all Spending in sport for which I wrought so toughlie When I had felt all torture and had tryed all And spent my stocke through streane of thine extortion Of that I had but good hopes for my portion SONNET XXI Yea but vncertaine hopes are anchors feeble When such faint-harted pilates guide my shippes Of all my fortunes ballist with hard peeble Whose doubtfull viadge proues not worth two chippes If when but one darke cloud shall dimme the skie The cables of hopes happinesse be cut When barke with thoughtes drown'd marriners shall lye Prest for the whirle poole of greefes endlesse glutte If well thou meane Parthenophe then rauishe Mine hart with doubtlesse hope of mutuall loue If otherwise then let thy tong runne lauishe For this or that am I resoulu'd to proue And both or either extasie shall moue Me rauish't end with surfet of releefe Or sencelesse daunted dye with soddeine greefe SONNET XXII From thine harts euer burning vestall fier The torch-light of two sunnes is norisht still Which in milde compasse still surmouuting hyer There orbes with circled harmonie fulfill Whose rowling wheeles runne on Meridian line And turning the turne backe the mistie night Report of which cleare wonder did incline Mine eyes to gaze vpon that vncouth light On it till I was sun-burnt did I gaze Which with a feruent agonie possest me Then did I sweate and swelt mine eyes daze Till that a burniug feuer had opprest me Which made me faint no Phisicke hath represt me For I trye all yet for to make me sound Ay me no grasse nor Phisicke may be found SONNET XXIII When with the dawning of my first delight The day light of loues delycasie mou'd me Then from my heauens disdainfull starrie light The moone-light of her chastitie reprou'd me Her forheads threatfull cloudes from hope remou'd me Till midnight rear'd on the mid-noctiall line Her hart whiles pities sleight had vndershou'd me Then did I force her downward to decline Till dawning day light chearefully did shine And by such happie reuolution drew Her mornings blush to ioyfull smiles encline And now Meridian heate dries vp my dewe There rest faire Planets stay bright orbes of heauen Still smiling at my dyall past eleuen SONNET XXIIII These mine hart-eating eyes doe neuer gaze Vpon thy sonnes harmonious marble wheeles But from these eyes through force of thy sunnes blaze Raine teares continuall whiles my faithes true steeles Tempred on anueile of thine harts could flint Strikes marrow-melting fier into mine eyes The tinder whence my passions doe not stint As matches to those sparkles which arise Which when the taper of mine hart is lighted â—…ke Salamanders nurrish in the flame 〈◊〉 the loues with my new torch delighted A wâ—…e like knattes did florish in the same But burnt their winges nor anyway could frame To flye from thence since Ioues proud byrd that beares His thunder veu'd my sunne but shed
Grecian Conquerours in fight Some valiant Romaine warres boue starres do mount With all their warlike leaders men of might Whilst some of Bryttish Arthures valure sing And register the prayse of Charlemayne And some of doughtie Godfrey tydinges bring And some the Germaine broyles and warres of Spayne In none of those my selfe I wounded finde Neither with horseman nor with man on foote But from a cleare bright eye one captaine blinde VVhose pu◅sance to resist did nothing boote With men in golden armes and dartes of golde VVounded my hart and all which did beholde SONNET LXI To none but to Prometheus me compayer From sacred heauen he stoule that holy fier I from thine eyes stoule fier my iudgements are For to be bound with cheanes of strong desier To that hard rocke of thy thrise cruell hart The ceaselesse waues which on the rockes do dash Yet neuer pearce but forced backward start Those be these endlesse teares my cheekes which wash The vulture which is by my goddesse doome Assign'd to feede vpon mine endlesse lyuer Dispaire by the procur'd which leaues no roome For Ioculus to iest with Cupides quyuer This swallowes worldes of liuers spending few But not content O god shall this be true SONNET LXII Fye fye fierce tyrant quenche this furious rage O quenche this rageous furie little god Nay mightie god my furies heate asswage Nor are thine little dartes nor brittle rodde Ah that you hadst a sweet recuring dart Or such a rodde as into health might whipp◅ mee With this to leuell at my troubled hart To warne with scourge that no bright eye might trippe mee Vayne wordes which vanish with the cloudes why speake I And bootebesse options builded with voyde ayer How oft enrag'd in hopelesse passions breake I How oft in false vaine hope and blacke dispayer How oft left liuelesse at thy cloudie frowne How oft in passion mounted and pluck't downe MADRIGALL 13. Soft louely Roselike lippes conioyn'd with mine Breathing out pretious incense such Such as at Paphos smoake to Venus shrine Making my lippes immortall with their tuche My cheekes with tuch of thy soft cheekes deuine Thy soft warme cheekes which Venus fauour much Those armes such armes which me embrac'de Me with immortall cyncture guirding rounde Of euerlasting blisse then bounde With her enfolded thighes in mine entangled And both in one selfe soule plac'de Made an Hermophrodite with pleasures rauish't There heate for heats soule for soules empyer wrāgled Why dyed not I with loue so largely lauish't For wake not finding truth of dreames before It secret vexeth tentimes more MADRIGALL 14. Ah tentimes woorse tormented then before Tentimes more pittie should'st thou take of mee I haue endur'd then sweet restore That pleasure which procur'd this paine Thou scorn'st my lynes a sainct which make of thee Where true desiers of thine hard hart complaine There thou boue stella plac'de Boue laura with ten thousand more install'd And now proude thinkes me grac'd That am to thee though mercilesse inthrall'de SONNET LXIII Ioue for Europaes loue tooke shape of Bull And for Calisto playde Dianaes parte And in a golden shower he filled full The lappe of Danae with coelestiall arte Would I were chang'd but to my mistresse gloues That those white louely fingers I might hide That I might kisse those hands which mine hart loues Or else that cheane of pearle her neckes vaine pride Made proude with her neckes vaines that I might folde About that louely necke and her pappes tickle Or her to compasse like a belt of golde Or that sweet wine which downe her throate doth trickle To kisse her lippes and lye next at her hart Runne through her vaynes and passe by pleasures part SONNET LXIIII. If all the loues were lost and should be founde And all the graces glories were decayde In thee the graces ornamentes abounde In me the loues by thy sweet graces layde And if the muses had their voyce forgone And Venus husbandes forge had lost his fier The muses voyce should by thy voyce be knowne And vulcanes heate be founde in my desier I will accuse thee to the goddes of thefte For Pallas eye and Venus rosie cheeke And Phoebes forehead which thou hast berefte Complaine of me to Cupid let him seeke In vayne for me each where and in all partes For gainst my will I stoule one of his dartes SONNET LXV Oh that I had no hart as I haue none For thou mine hartes full spirite hast possessed Then should myne argument be not of mone Then vnder loues yoke should should I not be pressed Oh that without myne eyes I had been borne Then had I not my mistresse bewtie vewed Then had I neuer been so farre forlorne Then had I neuer wep't then neuer rewed Oh that I neuer had been borne at all Or beeing had been borne of shepheardes broode Then should I not in such mischances fall Quyet my water and content my foode But now disquieted and still tormented With a duerse fate perforce must rest contented SONNET LXVI Ah sweet content where is ◅hy mylde abode Is it with shepheardes and light-harted swaynes Which sing vpon the downes and pype abroade Tending their flockes and cattell on the playnes Ah sweet content where doest thou safely rest In heauen with Angels which the prayses sing Of him that made and rules at his behest The mindes and harts of euery liuing thing Ah sweet content where doth thine harbour hold Is it in Churches with Religious men Which please the goddes with prayers manifold And in their studies meditate it then Whether thou doest in heauen or earth appeare Be where thou wilt thou will not harbour here SONNET LXVII If Cupid keepe his quiuer in thine eye And shoote at ouer-daring gasers hartes Alas why be not men afrayde and fllye As from Medusaes doubting after smartes Ah when he drawes his string none sees his bow Nor heares his golden fethred arrowes sing Ay me till it be shot no man doth know Vntill his hart be pricked with the sting Like semblance beares the musket in the field It hittes and killes vnseene till vnawares To death wounded man his body yeeld And thus a pesant Caesars glorie dares This diffrence left twixt Mars his field and loues That Cupids souldior shot more torture proues SONNET LXVIII Would God when I beheld thy bewteous face And golden tresses rich with pearle and stone Medusaes visage had appear'd in place With snakie lockes looking on me alone Then had her dreadfull charming lookes me changed Into a sencelesse stone oh were I sencelesse Then rage through rash regard had neuer ranged Whereas to loue I stood disarm'd and fencelesse Yea but that diuerse obiect of thy face In me contrarious operations wrought A mouing spirite prick't with bewties grace No pitties grace in thee which I haue sought Which makes me deeme thou didst Medusa see And should thy selfe a mouing marble bee SONNET LXIX The leauelesse branches of the liuelesse bowes Carue winters out-rage in their withered barkes The
hatred and disdaine brought to their end Fierce Dragons which attemptours all purseu'de And which before none euer haue eschew'de At length who shall these golden apples gaine He shall alone be Perseus for his paine ELEGIE XIII Swift Atalanta when she lost the prise By gathering golden apples in her race Shewes how by th'apples of thine heauenly eyes Which fortune did hefore my passage place When for mine hartes contentement I did runne How I was hindred and my wager lost When others did the wagers worth surprise I vew'de thine eyes thus eyes vew'de to my cost Nor could I them enioy when all was donne But seeming as they did bright as the Sunne My course I stayd to vewe their fierie grace Whose sweet possession I could not comprise Th' Idaean shepheard when the strise begunne Amongst three goddesses as Iudge decreede The golden apple Venus did awarde Cause of the wast and downefall of proud Troye But when the graces had a sweet regard How fayre Parthenophe did her exceede And Venus now was from the world debarr'd One so much fayrer farre as to much coye Parthenophe the chose in Venus fleede And since her bewtie Venus did out goe Two golden apples were to her assigned Which apples all th' outrageous tumultes breede That are hep'd vp in my distressed minde Whose figure in enflamed Troye I finde The cheefe occasion of mine endlesse woe ELEGIE XIIII When I remember that accursed night When my deare bewtie said she must depart And the next morning leaue the Cities sight Ah then euen then blacke sorrow shew'de his might And plac'd his empyer in my vanquish't hart Mine hart still vanquish't yet assaulted still Burnt with loues out-rage from whose cleare torch light Fierce sorrow findes a way to spoile and kill Ah sorrow sorrow neuer satisfied And if not satisfied worke on thy will Oh deare departure of mine onely blisse When willing from the Citie thou did ryde And I made offer tho then wounded wyde To go with thee thou rashly didst refuse With me distrest to be accompanied And binding wordes imperious did'st vse Commaunding me an other way to chuse Ah then euen then in spirite crucified Mine eyes with teares mine hart with sighes and throbbes Those almost blind that hard swolnâ—… almost burst My braynes abiuring harbour to my muse Did leaue â—…hoaked almost with straite sobbes Ah be that hower and day for euer curst Which me of my lifes libertie did robbe For since that time I neuer saw my loue Long can we not be seuer'd I will follow Through woods through mountaines waues and caues made hollow Oh greefe of greefes extremitie the worst Still will I follow till I finde thee out And if my wish with trauell will not proue Yet shall my sorrowes trauell round about In wailefull Elegies and mournefull verse Vntill they finde and thee with pittie perce Meane while to see thee more standing in doubt I 'le sing my plaine-song with the Turtle doue And prick-song with the Nighting all rehearse ELEGIE XV. Oh deare remembraunce of my Ladyes eyes In minde whose reuolutions I reuolue To you mine harts bright guid-starres my soule cryes Vpon some happy sentence to resolue A sentence either of my life or death So bale me from the dungeon of dispaire On you I cry with interrupted breathe On you and none but you to crosse my care My care to crosse least I be crucified Aboue the patience of an humaine soule Do this Ah this and still be glorified Do this and let eternities enroule Thy fame and name let them enroule for euer In lasting recordes of still lasting steele Do this ah this and famous still perseuer Which in another age thy ghost shall feele Yet howsoeuer thou with me shall deale Thy bewtie shall perseuer in my verse And thine eyes wounde which thine hart would not heale And my complaintes which could not thine hart perce And thine hard hart thy bewties shamefull staine And that fowle staine thine endlesse infamie So though thou still in recorde do remaine The recordes reckon but thine obloquie When on the paper which my passionbeares Relenting readers for my sake shed teares ELEGIE XVI Ah were my teares as many writers bee Meere droppes of incke proceeding from my penne Then in these sable weedes you should not see Me seuer'd from societie of men Ah me all colours do mine eyes displease Saue those two colours of pure white and redde And yet I dare not florish it in these Because I can not for my colour 's dead Those colours florish round about each where But cheefely with my mistresse in their kinde And fayne I would her louely colours weare So that it might be pleasing to her minde But nought will please her ouer-cruell eye But blacke and payle on body and in face Then she triumphes in bewties tyrannie When she sees bewtie bewtie can disgrace When her sweet smiling eyes drye Vestâ—…es throane Can blubber'd bleare-eyes drowne in seaes of teares And laughes to here poore louers how they moane Ioyes in the paper which her prayses beares And for his sake that sent that schoedule teares What but pale enuie doth her hart assaile When she would be still fayre add laugh alone And for her sake all other's mourne and paile ELEGIE XVII Deare mistresse then my soule to me much dearer Wonder not that another writes my letter For sorrow still mine hart oppresseth nearer And extreame sicknesse doth my sinewes fetter Of my deare life to thy loue am I debter Thine is my soule then soule what can be meerer Thine my cheefe best then that what can better Absented farre and that which is farre worse Vnable either for to goe or ryde Here am I in perpetuall bondage tyed Then if with saluage Sauromates farre worse This ayer is loath some and this ayer I curse Because with thy sweet breathe it is not blest Though hot coole waters I can not abide Since the which thy cleare eyes as all the rest Be not as they sometimes were purified The ground I tread my footing doth infest Because it is not hallowed with thy feete I loath all meate for all meate is vnmeete Which is not eaten where thy sweet selfe feedest Nothing is pleasaunt louely rich or sweete Which doth not with his grace thy bewtie greete Ah too deare absence which this sicknesse breedest Of thy deare sweet which can not be too deare Yet if thou wilt voutch-safe my life to saue Write but one lyne one lyne my life will cheare The ransome of my life thy name will pay And I be freede from my much doubtfull feare ELEGIE XVIII If neither loue nor pittie can procure Thy ruthlesse hart subscribe to my content But if thou vow that I shall still endure This doubtfull feare which euer doth torment If to thine eyes thine hart can lend a fier Whiles could disdaine vpon them settes a locke To barre forth pittie which kinde harts desier Whiles the distrest make prayers to a rocke If that thine eyes send out
a sunnie smile From vnderneath a cloudie frowne of hate Plaine loue with counterfeasance to beguile Which at thy windowes for some grace awate If thou thine eares can open to thy prayse And them with that report delighted cherish And shut them when the passionate assayes To pleade for pittie then about to perish If thou canst cherish graces in thy cheeke For men to wonder at which thee behold And they finde furies when thine hart they see◅e And yet proue such as are extreamely cold Now as I finde no thought to mans conceipt Then must I sweare to woman 's no deceit ELEGIE XIX Deare sorrow giue me leaue to breathe a while A little leaue to take a longer breath Whose easie passage still thou doest beguile Choak'd vp with sighes proclamers of my death Oh let the teares of euer-thirstie eyes Returne backe to the channells of mine hart They to my sight be vowed enemies And made a trayterous league not to depart Vnder the colour of tormenting those Which were first causers of mine harts distresse And closely with mine hart by guile did close Through blinding them to make my torment lesse Oh let those fearefull thoughtes which still oppresse me Turne to the dungeon of my troubled brayne Dispaire t' accompanie which doth possesse me And with his venome poisoneth euery vayne Ouglie dispaire who with blacke force assaultes Me vanquisht with conceipt and makes me dwell With horrour match't in melancholies vaultes Where I lye burning in my fancies hell Oh thou drad ruler of my sorrowes rage Of thee and none but thee I begge remorse VVith thy sweet breath thou may my sighes asswage And make my sorrowes fountaines stay their course And banish blacke dispaire then helpe me now Or know death can do this as well as thou ELEGIE XX. Oh deare vexation of my troubled soule My life with greefe when wilt thou consummate The deare remembrance of my passing soule Mine hart with some restes hope doth animate How many haue those conquering eyes subdued How many vanquish't captiues to thine hart Hard-iron harted Captaines when they vew'de VVere drawne till they were wounded with thy dart Oh when I there heard bodies haue beheld Their martiall stomaches and oft wounded face Which bitter tumultes and garboyles foretell'd In which it seem'd they founde no cowardes place Then I recall'd how farre loues power exceedes Aboue the bloudie menace of rough warre Where euery wounded hart close inward bleedes And soddeine perc'd with twinckling of a starre Then when such iron harted Captaines bee To thine harts bulwarke forced for to trye Which way to winne that fort by batterye And how all conquerours their conquer'd lye Me thinkes thine hart or else thine eyes be made Because they can such iron obiectes force Of hardest Adamante that men which lade Continuall siege be thrall'd without remorse Thine hart of Adamant because it takes The hardest harts drawne prisoners vnto t◅e Thine eye because it wonded many makes Yet no transpercing beames can pearce those eyne Thine hart of Adamant which none can wound Thine eye of Adamant vnperced found ELEGIE XXI Happie depart with speede then me more fortunate euer Poore letter go thy wayes vnto my sweet Ladyes hands She shall looke on thee and then with her bewtifull eyes blesse Smiling eyes perhaps thee to delight with a glaunce She shall cast on a lyne if a lyne there pleaseth her humour But if a lyne displease then shall apeare in a frowne How much she dislikes thy loues and saucie salutings O my lifes sweet light know that a frowne of thine eye Can transpearce to my soule more swift then a Parthian arrow And more deepely wound then any launce or a speare But thy sweet smiles can procure such contrary mot'ions Which can alone that heale wounded afore by thine eyes Like to the launces rust which heal'de whome warlike Achilles With right hand valiant doughtilye wounded afore Not vnlike to the men whose greefe the Scorpion helpeth Whom he before did sting ready to dye thorow paine Thou that bewtie procures to be thy chastities hand mayde With vertues regiment glorious ordred alone Thou that those smooth browes like plates of Iuory plained When any looke on them canst make apeare like a cloude Thou that those cleare eyes whose light surpasseth a stars light Canst make loues flames shoote with cruel anger abroad Thou that those fayre cheekes when a man thy bewtie beholdeth Deepely to wound canst make sweetely to blush like a rose Make thy browes to delight mine hart smooth shadow thy cleare eyes Whose smile is to my soule like to the sunne frō a cloude When he shines to the world in most pride after a tempest And with his heate prouokes all the delightes of the ground Graunt me sweet Lady this this graunt kinde pittie requesteth Teares and sighes make asuite pittie me pittie my suite Thus to thy sweet graces will I leaue my drcerye bewaylings And to thy gracious hart I recomend my lamentes Thrise blessed go thy way to my deare go thrise speedie letter And for me kisse them since I may not kisse her hands CANZON 1. All bewties farre perfections rest in thee And sweetest grace of graces Deckes thy face boue faces All vertue takes her glorie from thy minde The muses in thy wittes haue their places And in thy thoughtes all mercies bee Thine hart from all hardnesse free An holy place in thy thoughtes holinesse doth finde In fauorable speech kinde A sacred tongue and eloquent Action sweet and excellent Musique it selfe in ioyntes of her fayre fingers is She chauntresse of singers is Her plighted faith is firme and permanent O now now helpe wilt thou take some compassion She thinkes I flatter writing on this fashion Thy bewtie past with misorder stayned is In thee no graces finde rest In thoe who sought it saw lest And all thy thoughtes be vayne and vicious Thy braynes with heauie dullnesse are opprest Of thee no mercy gayned is Thine hart hard and fayned is Aminde prophane and of the worst suspicious In speech not delicious Atoung ty'de which cannot vtter Gesture lame like wordes which stutter Thy hands and minde vnap'te in musique to reioyce For songes vnfitte an hoarse voyce Thy faith vnconstant whatsoeuer thou mutter Be gracious no she thinckes my wordes be bitter Through my misfortunes they for my selfe be fitter O'h how long how long shall I be distrest How long in vayne shall I moane How long in payne shall I groane How long shall I bathe in continuall teares How long shall I sit sad and sigh alone How long shall feare discomfort giue How long shall hopes let me liue How long shall I lye bounde in dispaires and feares VVith sorrow still my hart weares my sundry fancies subdue me Thine eyes kill me when they vew me VVhen thou speakes with my soule thy voyce musique maketh And soules from silence waketh Thy browes smiles quicken me whose frownes slew me Then fayre sweet behold see me poore wretch in torment Thou