Selected quad for the lemma: water_n
Text snippets containing the quad
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Title |
Author |
Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication) |
STC |
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A12772
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Amoretti and Epithalamion. Written not long since by Edmunde Spenser
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Spenser, Edmund, 1552?-1599.
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1595
(1595)
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STC 23076; ESTC S111260
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28,803
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136
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ought so hard but he that would attend mote soften it and to his will alluâe so doe I hope her stubborne hart to bend and that it then more stedfast will endure Onely my paines wil be the more to get her but hauing her my ioy wil be the greater SONNET LII SO oft as homeward I from her depart I goe lyke one that hauing lost the field is prisoner led away with heauy haât despoyld of warlike armes and knowen shield So doe I now my selfe a prisoner yeeld to sorrow and to solitary paine from presence oâ my dearest deare exylde long while alone in languor to remaine There let no thought of ioy or pleasure vaine dare to approch that may my solace breed but sudden dumps and drery sad disdayne of all worlds gladnesse more my torment feed So I hâr absens will my penaunce make that of her presens I my meed may take SONNET LIII THe Panther knowing that his spotted hyde Doth please all beasâs but that his looks theÌâray within a bush his dreâdfull head doth hide to let them gaze why lest he on them may pray Right so my cruell fayre with me doth play for with the goodly semblant of her hâwâ she doth allure me to mine owne decay and then no mercy will vnto me shew Great shame it is thing so diuine in view made for to be the worlds most ornament to make the bayte her gazers to embrew good shames to be to ill an instrument But mercy doth with beautie best agree as in theyr maker ye them best may see SONNET LIIII OF this worlds Theatre in which we stay My loue lyke the Spectator ydly sits beholding me that all the pageants play disguysing diuersly my troubled wits Sometimes I ioy when glad occasion sits and mask in myrth lyke to a Comedy soone after when my ioy to sorrow flits I waile and make my woes a Tragedy Yet she beholding me with constant eye delights not in my merth nor ââes my smartâ but when I laugh she mocks and when I cry she laughes and hardens euermore her hart What then caâ moue her if nor merth nor mone she is no woman but a sencelesse stone SONNET LV. SO oft as I her beauty doe behold And therewith doe her cruelty compare I maruaile of what substance was the mould the which her made attonce so cruell faire Not earth for her high thoghts more heauenly are not water for her loue doth burne like fyre not ayre for she is not so light or rare not fyre for she doth friese with âaint desire Then needs another Element inquire whereof she mote be made that is the skye for to the heauen her haughty lookes aspire and eke her mind is pure immortall hye Then sith to heauen ye lykened are the best be lyke in mercy as in all the rest SONNET LVI FAyre ye be sure but cruell and vnkind As is a Tygre that with greedinesse hunts after bloud when he by chance doth find a feeble beast doth felly him oppresse Fayre be ye sure but proud and pittilesse as is a storme that all things doth prostrate finding a tree alone all comfortlesse beats on it strongly it to ruinate Fayre be ye sure but hard and obstinate as is a rocke amidst the raging âloods gaynst which a ship of succour desolate doth suffer wreck both of her selfe and goods That ship that treâ and that same beast am I whom ye doe wreck doe ruine and destroy SONNET LVII SWeet warriour when shall I haue peace with you High time it is this warre now ended were which I no lenger can endure to âue ne your incestaât batâry more to beare So weake my powres so sore my wounds appeare that wonder is how I should liue a iot seeing my hart through launched euery where with thousand arrowes which your eies haue shot Yet shoot ye sharpely still and spare me not but glory thinke to make theâe cruel stoures ye cruell one what glory can be got in slaying him that would liue âladlâ yours Make peace thereâore and graunt me timely grace that al my wounds wil heale in little space SONNET LVIII By her that is most assured to her selfe WEake is th'aâsurance that weake âlesh reposeth In her owne powre and scorneth others ayde that soonest âals when as she most supposeth her selfe assurd and is of nought affrayd All flesh is frayle and all her strength vnstayd like a vaine bubble blowen vp with ayre deuouring tyme changeful chance haue prayd her glories pride that none may it repayre Ne none so rich or wise so strong or fayre but fayleth trusting on his owne assurance and he that standeth on the hyghest stayre falâ lowest for on earth nought hath enduraunce Why then doe ye proud fayre misdeeme so farre that to your selfe ye most assured arre SONNET LIX THrise happie she that is so well assured Vnto her selfe and setled so in hart that nether will for better be alluredâ ne âeaâd with worse to any chaunce to startâ But like a steddy ship doth strongly pâât the raging waues and keâpes her course aright ne ought for tempest doth from it depart ne ought for fayrer weathers âalse delight Such selâe assurance need not feare the spight of grudging soes ne fauour seek oâââiends but in the stay of her owne stedfast might nether to one her selfe nor other bends Most happy she that most assured doth rest but he most happy who such one loues best SONNET LX. THey that in course of heauenly spheares are skild To euery planet point his sundry yeare in which her circles voyage is âulâild as Mars in three âcore yeares doth run his spheare So since the winged God his planet cleare began in me to moue one yeare is spent the which doth longer vnto me appeare then al those fourty which my liâe outwent Then by that count which loueâs books inuent the spheare oâ Cupid fourty yeares containes which I haue wasted in long languishment that seemd the longer for my greater paines But let my loues fayre Planet short her wayes this yeare ensuing or else short my dayes SONNET LXI THe glorious image of the makers beautie My souerayne saynt the Idoll of my thought dare not henceforth aboue the bounds of dewtie t'accuse of pride or rashly blame for ought For being as she is diuinely wrought and of the brood of Angels heuenly borne and with the crew of blessed Saynts vpbrought each of which did her with theyr guilts adorne The bud of ioy the blossome of the morne the beame of light whom mortal eyes admyre what reason is it then but she should scorne base things that to her loue too bold aspire Such heauenly formes ought rather worshipt be then dare be lou'd by men of meane degree SONNET LXII THe weary yeare his race now hauing run The new begins his compast course anew with shew of morning mylde he hath begun beâokening peace and plenty to ensew So let vs which this chaunge of weather vew chaunge âeke our mynds and