onely such delight To witles things then Loue I hope since wit Becomes a clogge will soone ease me of it WHen my good Angell guides me to the place Where's al my good I doe in Stella see That Heauenly ioyes throwes onely downe on me Thundred disdaines and Lightning of disgrace But when the ruggedst step of Fortunes race Makes me fall from her sight then sweetly she With words wherein the Muses Treasures be Shewes loue and pittie to my absent case Now I with beating long by hardest fate So dull am that I cannot looke into The ground of this fierce loue and louing hate Then some good body tell me how to do Whose presence absence absence presence is Blest in my curse and curssed in my blisse OFt with true sighes oft with vncalled teares Now with slow words now with dumbe eloquence I Stellas eyes assailde I closde her eares But this at last is her sweetest defence That who indeede a sound affection beares So captiues to his Saint both soule and mind That wholie Hers all selfnes hee forbeares Thence his desire he learnes his liues course thence Now since this chast loue hates this loue in mee With chastned minde I needes must shew that shee Shall quickly me from what she hates remoue O Doctor Cupid thou for me reply Driuen els to graunt by Angell Sophistry That I loue not without I leaue to loue LAte tyr'd with woe euen ready for to pine With rage of loue I call my Loue vnkinde Shee in whose eyes loues fyres vnfelt doe shine Sweetlie saide I true loue in her shoulde finde I ioy but straight thus watred was my wine That loue she did but with a loue not blinde Which would not let me whome she lou'd decline From Nobler course fit for my birth and minde And therefore by her loues Authoritie Wilde me these Tempests of vaine loue to flee And Anchor fast my selfe on vertues shore Alas if this the onelie mettall be Of loue newe coyn'd to helpe my beggery Deere loue me not that you may loue me more OH Grammer rules oh now your vertues showe So Children still read you with awfull eyes As my younge Doue may in your precepts wise Her graunt to me by her owne vertue knowe For late with hart most hie with eyes most lowe I crau'd the thing which euer she denies Shee lightening Loue displaying Venus skyes Least one should not be heard twise saide no no. Harken Enuy not at my high triumphing But Grammers force with sweete successe confirme For Grammer sayes ah this deere Stella way For Grammer sayes to Grammer who sayes nay That in one speech two negatiues affirme NO more my deere no more these Counsels try O giue my passions leaue to runne their race Let Fortune lay on me her worst disgrace Let Folke orechargde with braine against me cry Let Cloudes be dimme my fate bereaues myne eyes Let me no steps but of lost labour try Let all the earth in scorne recount my race But doe not will me from my loue to fly I doe not enuye Aristotles wit Nor doe aspire to Caesars bleeding fame Nor ought to care though some aboue me sit Nor hope nor wish an other course to frame But that which once may winne thy cruell hart Thou art my wit and thou my vertue art LOue by sure proofe I may call thee vnkinde That giues no better eares to my iust cryes Thou whom to me such my good turnes shouldst binde As I may well account but cannot prise For when nak'd boy thou couldst no harbour finde In this olde world growne now so too too wise I lodg'de thee in my heart and being blinde By nature borne I gaue to thee my eyes Mine eyes my light my life my hart alas If so great seruices may scorned be Yet let this thought thy Tygirsh courage passe That I perhaps am somewhat kin to thee Since in thine armes of Fame most truely spred Thou bearst the Arrowe I the Arrowhed AND doe I see some cause of hope to finde Or doth the tedious burthen of long woe In weakned mindes quicke apprehension breede Of euery Image which may comfort showe I cannot brag of word much lesse of deede Fortunes windes still with me in one sorte blowe My wealth no more and no whit lesse my neede Desier still on stilts of feare doth goe And yet amids all feares a hope there is Stolne to my hart since last faire night nay day Stellas eyes sent to me the beames of blisse Looking on mee I looke an other way But when mine eyes blacke to their heauen did moue They fled with blush which guiltie seem'd of loue HOpe art thou true or doost thou flatter me Doth Stella now beginne vvith pitteous eye The raigne of this her conquest to espie Will she take time before all wracked be Her eye speech is translated thus by thee But failste thou not in phrase so heauenly hye Looke ore againe the faire text better prie What blushing notes dost thou in Margent see What sighes stolne out or kild before full borne Hast thou found such and such like arguments Or art thou els to comfort me forsworne Well how so ere thou doost interpret my contents I am resolu'd thy error to maintaine Rather than by more trueth to get more paine STella the onely Plannet of my light Light of my life and life of my desire Cheife good vvhereto my hope doth sole aspire World of my wealth and heauen of my delight Why doost thou spend the Treasure of thy sprite With voice more fit to vved Amphyons Lyre Seeking to quench in me the noble fyre Set by thy wrath and kindled by thy sight And all in vaine for while thy breath so sweete With choisest words thy wordes with reasons rare Thy reasons firmely set are vertues feete Labour to kill in me this killing care Oh thinke I then what Paradise of ioy It is so faire a vertue to annoy OH ioy too high for my Loue still to showe Oh blisse fit for a nobler seat than mee Enuie put out thine eyes least thou doe see What Ouans of delight in me doth flowe My friend that oft saw'st through all maskes my woe Come come and let me poure my selfe in thee Gone is the winter of my miserie My Spring appeares loe see what heere doth growe For Stella hath with wordes where faith doth shine Of her high hart giuen me the Monarchie And Io I may say that she is mine And though she giue but this condicionally This Realme of blisse while vertues course I take No Kings be Crownd but they some couenant make MY Muse may well grudge at my heauenly ioy Yf still I force her thus in woe to weepe She oft hath drunke my teares now hopes t'enioy Nectar of mirth since I Ioues Cupid keepe Sonnets be not bound Prentice to annoy Trebbles sing high so well as bases deepe Griefe but Loues winter liuerie the boy Hath cheekes to smile so well as eyes to weepe Come then my Muse
VVho hath the crimson weeds stoln frō the morning skies How doth the coullor fade of those vermillion eies VVhich Nature self did make and self engraue the same I would know by what right this palenes ouercame That hue whose force my heart in so great thraldome ties Gallens adopted sonnes who by a beaten way Their iudgements hackney on the fault of sicknes lay But feeling proofe makes me say they mistake it sure It is but loue that makes this paper perfect white To write therein more fresh the storie of Delight VVhiles Beauties reddest incke Venus for him doth stir O Happie Thames that didst my Stella beare I saw thee with full many a smiling line Vpon thy cheereful face Ioues Liuery weare VVhile those faire Plannets on thy streames did shine The boat for ioy could not to dance forbeare VVhile wanton winds with beautie so diuine Rauisht staid not til in her golden haire They did themselues ô sweetest prison twine But faine those friendly windes there would their stay Haue made but forst by Nature still to flie First did with puffing kisse those Lockes display She so discouered blusht From window I with sight thereof cride out Ah faire disgrace Let honours selfe to thee graunt highest place ENuious wits what hath beene mine offence That with such poisoned care my wits you marke That to each word nay sigh of mine you harke As grudging me my sorrows eloquence Ah is it not enough that I am thence Thence so farre thence that scantly anie sparke Of comfort dare come to this dungeon darke VVhere rigorous exile lockes vp al my sense But if I by a happie window passe If I but Starres vpon mine Armour beare Sicke thirstie glad though but of empty glasse Your morals note straight my hid meaning there From out my ribs a whirlewind proues that I Doe Stella loue fooles who doth it denie VNhappie sight and hath shee vanisht by So neere in so good time so free a place Dead glasse dost thou thine obiect so imbrace As what my heart still sees thou canst not spie I sweare by hir Loue and my lacke that I Was not in fault that bent my dazling race Onely vnto the heauen of Stellaes face Counting but dust that in hir way did lie But cease mine eies your teares doe witnes well That you guiltles therefore your necklace mist Curst be the Page from whom the bad torch fell Curst be the night which did your will resist Curst be the Cochman that did driue so fast With no lesse curse then absence makes me tast O Absent presence Stella is not here False flattering hope that with so faire a face Bare me in hand that in this Orphane place Stella I saw my Stella should appeare VVhat saist thou now where is that dainty cleare Thou wouldst mine eies should helpe their famisht case But how art thou now that selfe felt disgrace Doth make me most to wish thy comfort nere But heere I doe store of faire Ladies meete VVho may with charme of conuersation sweete Make in my heauie mould new thoughts to grow Sure they preuaile as much with me as he That bad his friend but then new maimed to be Merrie with him and so his forget woe STella since thou so right a Princesse art Of all the Powers which life bestowe on me That ere by them ought vndertaken be They first resort vnto that soueraigne part Sweete for a time giue respite to my heart VVhich pants as though it stil should leape to thee And on my thought giue the Lieuetenancie To this great cause which needes both wit and Art And as a Queene who from hir presence sends VVhom shee emploies dismisse from thee my wit Still to haue wrought that thy owne will attends For seruants shame of Maisters blame doth sit O let not Fooles in me thy works approue And scorning say see what it is to loue When sorrow vsing my owne Siers might Melts downe his lead into my boyling brest Through that darke Furnace of my heart opprest There shines a ioy from thee my onely light But soone as thought of thee breeds my delight And my young soule once flutters to hir nest Most dead dispaire my daily vnbidden guest Clips strait my wings strait wraps me in his night And makes me then bow downe my head and say Ah what doth Phoebus gold that wretch auaile VVhom Iron darts doth keepe from vse of daie So strangely alas thy works on me preuaile That in my woes for thee thou art my ioy And in my ioyes for thee my onel'anoy Other Sonnets of variable verse First Sonnet DOubt you to whom my Muse these notes intendeth Which now my brest surchargd with musick lendeth To you to you all song of praise is due Onely in you my song begins and endeth 2 Who hath the eyes which marrie state with pleasure Who keepes the key of Natures chiefest treasure To you to you al song of praise be due Onely for you the heauens forget all measure 3 VVho hath the lips where wit with fairenes raigneth VVho womenkinde at once both decks and staineth To you to you al song of praise is due Onely by you Cupid his crowne maintaineth 4 Who hath the feet whose steps al sweetnes planteth VVho els for whom Fame worthie trumpets wanteth To you to you all song of praise be due Onely to you her scepter Venus granteth 5 Who hath the brest whose milk doth patience nurish VVhose grace is such that when it chides doth cherish To you to you al song of praise be due Onely through you the tree of life doth slourish 6 VVho hath the hand which without stroke subdueth VVho long hid beautie with encrease renueth To you to you al song of praise is due Onely at you al enuie hopelesse endeth 7 VVho hath the haire which most loose most fast tieth VVho makes a man liue then glad when he dieth To you to you al song of praise is due Onely of you the flattrer neuer lieth 8 VVho hath the voyce which soule from senses sunders VVhose force but yours the bolt of beautie thunders To you to you al song of praise is due Onely with you no miracles are wonders 9 Doubt you to whom my Muse these notes intendeth VVhich now my breast orechargd with musicke lendeth To you to you al song of praise is due Onely in you my song begins and endeth Second Sonnet HAue I caught my heauenly Iuel Teaching Sleepe most faire to be Now wil I teach her that she VVhen she wakes is too too cruel 2 Since sweete Sleep her eyes hath charmed The two onely darts of Loue Now will I with that Boy proue Some play while he is disarmed 3 Her tongue waking stil refuseth Giuing franklie niggard no Now wil I attempt to knowe VVhat no her tongue sleeping vseth 4 See the hand that waking gardeth Sleeping grants a free resort Now I wil inuade the fort Cowards Loue with losse rewardeth 5 But O foole thinke of the danger Of
want of inward tutch And sure at length stolne goods doe come to light But if both for your loue and skill you name You seeke to nurse at fullest brest of Fame Stella behold and then begin to write IN nature apt to like when I did see Beauties which were of many Carrects fine My boyling spirits did thether then incline And Loue I thought that I was full of thee But finding not those restles flames in me Which others said did make theyr soules to pyne I thought those babes of some pins hurt did whine By my loue iudging what loues pains might be But while I thus with this young Lyon plaid Myne eyes shall I say curst or blest beheld Stella now she is nam'de neede more be sayd In her sight I a lesson new haue speld I now haue learnd loue right and learnd euen so As they that beeing poysoned poyson know HIs mother deere Cupid offended late Because that Mars grew slacker in her loue With pricking shot he did not throughly moue To keepe the place of their first louing state The boy refusde for feare of Marses hate Who thretned stripes if he his wrath did proue But she in chafe him from her lappe did shoue Broke bowe broke shaftes where Cupid weeping sate Till that his Grandam Nature pittying it Of Stellas browes made him two better bowes And in her eyes of arrowes infinit O how for ioye he leapes ô how he crowes And straight therewith like wagges new got to play Falls to shrewde turnes and I was in his way WIth what strange checkes I in my selfe am shent When into Reasons Audit I doe goe And by such counts my selfe a Banckerowt know Of all those goods which heauen to me hath lent Vnable quite to pay euen Natures rent Which vnto it by birth-right I doe owe And which is worse no good excuse can showe But that my wealth I haue most idly spent My wit doth waste my knowledge bringes forth toyes My wit doth striue those passions to defende With my rewarde the spoile of vaine annoyes I see my course to loose my selfe doth bende I see and yet no greater sorrowe take Than that I loose no more for Stellas sake ON Cupids bowe how are my hart strings bent That see my wracke and yet imbrace the same When most I glory then I feele most shame I willing run yet when I runne repent My best wittes still their owne disgrace inuent My verie yncke turnes straight to Stellas name And yet my wordes as them my penne doth frame For though she passe all things yet what is all That vnto me that fare like him that both Lookes to the skyes and in a ditch doth fall O let me proue my mind yet in his grouth And not in nature for best fruites vnfit Scholler saith Loue bend hitherward thy wit FLy flye my friendes I haue my deathes wound flye See there that boy that murthering boy I say Who like a thiefe hid in a bush doth lye Tyll blooddy bullet get him wrongfull pray So tyrant he no fitter place could spy Nor so farre leuell in so secrete stay As that sweete blacke which walles thy heauenly eye There he himselfe with his shot close doth laye Poore passenger passe now thereby I did And staid to see the prospect of the place While that black hue from me the bad guest hid But straight I saw motions of lightnings grace And there discried the glisterings of his dart But ere I could flie thence it pearst my hart YOur words my freends me causelesly doe blame My young minde marde whō Loue doth menace so That my owne writings like bad seruants shew My wits quick in vaine thoughts in vertue lame That Plato I haue reade for nought but if he tame Such coltish yeeres that to my birth I owe Nobler desires least els that to my foe Great expectation were a trayne of shame For since mad Mars great promise made to me If now the May or my yeeres much decline What can be hop'd my haruest time will be Well said your wit in vertues golden myne Digs deepe with learnings spade now tell me this Hath this world ought so faire as Stella is IN highest way of heauen the Sunne did ride Progressing from fayre Twynns in golden place Hauing no maske of Clowdes before his face But streaming forth of his heate in chiefest pride When some faire Ladies by hard promise tyde On horsebacke met him in his furious race Yet each prepar'de with Fannes well shading grace From that foes wounds their tender skinnes to hide Stella alone with face vnarmed marcht Either to doe like him as carelesse showne Or carelesse of the welth because her owne Yet were their hid and meaner beauties parcht Her daintiest bare went free the cause was this The Sunne that others burnt did her but kisse THe curious wits seeing dull pensiuenes Bewray it selfe in my long setled eyes When these same fumes of mellancholie rise With idle paines and missing paines doth gesse Some that know how my spring I did adresse Deeme that my Muse some fruite of knowledge plyes Others because the Prince my seruice tryes Thinke that I think State errors to redresse But harder Iudges iudge ambitious rage Scourge of it selfe till clyming slippery place Holds my young braine captiu'd in golden cage O fooles farre otherwise alas the case For all my thoughts haue neither stop nor start But onely Stellas eyes and Stellas hart RIch fooles there be whose base and filthy hart Lyes hatching still the goods wherein they flow Damning themselues to Tantalus his smart Welth breeding want more rich more wretched grow Yet to those fooles heauen doth such wit impart As what their hands doe hold their heads doe know And knowing loue and louing lay apart As scattered things farre from all dangers show But that rich foole whom by blinde Fortunes lot The richest gem of loue and life enioyes And can with foule abuse such beauties blot Let him depriued of sweet but vnfelt ioyes Exilde for aye from those high treasures which He knowes not grow in onely follie rich THE wisest scholler of the wight most wise By Phoebus doome with sugred sentence sayes That vertue if it once meete our eyes Strange flames of loue it in our soules would rayse But for that man with paine this truth discries While he each thing in sences ballance wayes And so nor will nor can behold those skyes Which inward Summe to heroicke minds displaies Vertue of late with vertuous care to stir Loue of himselfe take Stellas shape that hee To mortall eyes might sweetly shine in her It is most true for since I did her see Vertues great beautie in her face I proue And finde defect for I doe burne in loue THough duskie wits doe scorne Astrologie And fooles can thinke those lampes of purest light Whose number waies greatnes eternitie Promising wondrous wonders to inuite To haue for no cause birth-right in the skyes But for to spangle the blacke weedes
of Night Or for some braue within that Chamber hie They shold still daunce to please a gazers sight For me I nature euery deale doe know And know great causes great effects procure And know those bodies high raigne on the low And if these rules did fall proofe makes me sure Who oft bewraies my after following case By onely those two starres in Stellas face BEcause I oft in darke abstracted guise Seeme most alone in greatest company With dearth of words and aunswers quite awry To them that would make naked speech arise They deeme and of their doome the rumor flies That poyson foule of bubling pride doth lie So in my swelling brest that onely I Faune on my selfe all others doe dispise Yet pride I thinke doth not my soule possesse Which lookes too oft in this vnflattering glasse But one worse fault ambition I confesse That makes me oft my best freendes ouer-passe Vnseene vnheard while thought to highest place Bends all his powers euen vnto Stellas grace YOu that with allegories curious frame Of others children changlings vse to make With me those paines for God-sake doe not take I list not dig so deepe for brasen fame When I see Stella I doe meane the same Princesse of beautie for whose onely sake The raynes of loue I loue though neuer slake And ioy therin though Nations count it shame I begge no subiect to vse eloquence Nor hidden waies to guide Philosophie Looke at my hands for no such quintessence But know that I in pure simplicitie Breathe out the flames which burne within my hart Loue onely leading me into this arte LIke some weake Lords neighbours by mighty kings To keepe themselues and their chiefe Citties free Doe easily yeelde that all theyr coast may be Readie to serue their Campe of needfull things So Stellas hart finding what power Loue brings To keepe it selfe in life and libertie Doth willing graunt that in the Frontire he Vse all to helpe his other conquerings And thus her hart escapes but thus her eyes Serue him with shot her lips his Herralds are Her brests his Tents legges his tryumphall Chare Herselfe his foode her skin his Armor braue But for because my chiefest prospect lyes Vpon the coast I am giuen vp for a slaue WHether the Turkish new Moone minded be To fill her hornes vppon the Christian coast How Polands King mindes without leaue of hoast To warme with ill made fire cold Musconie If French can yet three parts in one agree What now the Dutch in their full diets boast How Holland harts now so good Townes are lost Wherewith my Father made it once halfe tame If in the Scottish Court be weltering yet These questions busie wits to me do frame I combered with good manners aunswere doe But know not how for still I thinke on you WIth how sad steps ô Moone thou clim'st the skyes How silently and with how meane a face What may it be that euen in heauenly place That busie Archer his sharpe Arrowes tryes Sure if that long with loue acquainted eyes Can iudge of loue thou feelst of Louers case I reade within thy lookes thy languisht grace To mee that feele the like my state discries Then euen of fellowship ô Moone tell me Is constant loue deemde there but want of wit Are beauties there as proude as heere there be Doe they aboue loue to be lou'd and yet Those Louers scorne whom that loue doth possesse Doe they call vertue there vngratefulnesse MOrpheus the liuely sonne of deadlie Sleepe Witnes of life to them that liuing die A Prophet oft of hidden mysterie A Poet eake as humors flye and creepe Since thou in me so sure a hold doost keepe That neuer I with clos'd vp sence doe lye But by thy worke my Stella I discry Teaching blind eyes both how to smile and weepe Vouchsafe of all acquaintance this to tell Whence hast thou Iuorie Rubies Pearle and Golde To shew her skin lips teeth and head so well Foole aunswers he no Indes such treasures hold But from thy hart while my Sire charmeth thee Sweete Stellas Image I doe steale to me I Might vnhappy word woe me I might And then would not or could not see my blisse Tyll now wrapt in a most infernall Night I finde how heauenly day wretch did I misse Hart rent thy selfe thou doost thy selfe but right No louely Paris made thy Helen his No force no fraude robd thee of thy delight No Fortune of thy fortune Author is But to my selfe my selfe did giue the blow While too much wit forsooth so troubled me That I respects for both our sakes must showe And could I not by rysing morne fore-see How faire a day was neere ô punisht eyes That I had beene more foolish or more wise COme let me write and to what end to ease A burthened hart how can words ease which are The glasses of thy daily vexing care Oh cruell fights well pictured forth doe please Art not asham'd to publish thy disease Nay that may breede my fame it is so rare But will not wise men thinke thy words fonde ware Then be they close and they shall none displease What idler thing than speake and not be heard What harder thing than smart and not to speake Peace foolish wit with wit my wit is marde Thus write I while I doubt to write and wreake My harmes in ynkes poore losse perhaps some finde Stellas great power that so confus'd my minde WHat may words say or what may words not say Where truth it selfe must speake like flattery Within what boundes can one his lyking stay Where Nature doth with excellence agree What Nestors counsell can my flames allay Since Reasons selfe doth blow the coles to me And ah what hope that hope should once see day Where Cupid is sworne page to Chastitie Honour is honoured that thou dost possesse Him as thy slaue and now long needie Fame Doth euen grow rich meaning my Stellas name Wit learnes in thee perfection to expresse Not thou by praise but praise in thee is raised It is a praise to praise where thou art praysed STella whence doth these newe assaults arise A conquerd yeelding ransackt hart to win Whereto long since through my long battred eyes Whole Armies of thy beauties entred in And there long since Loue thy Lieuetenant lyes My forces raz'd thy banners rais'd within Of conquest what doe these effects suffise But wilt new warre vppon thine owne begin With so sweet voyce and by sweet nature so In sweetest strength so sweetly skild withall In all sweet stratagems sweete Arte can shew That not my soule which at thy foote did fall Long sithence forst by thy beames but stone nor tree By sences priuiledge can scape from thee THus night while sleepe begins with heauie wings To close mine eyes and that my troubled thought Doth fall to stray and my chiefe powers are brought To leaue the scepter of all subiect things The first that straight my fancies errour brings Vnto my
you they moddels be Moddels such be wood globes of glistering skyes Deare therefore be not iealous ouer me If you heare that they seeme my heart to moue Not them no no but you in them I loue BE your wordes made good sir of Indian ware That you allowe them mee by so small rate Or do you the Caconians imitate Or do you meane my tender eares to spare That to my questions you so totall are When I demaund of Phoenix Stellaes state You saie forsooth you left her well too late O God thinke you that satisfies my care I would know whether shee did sit or walke How cloathd how waited on sighd shee or smilde VVhereof with whome how often did shee talke VVith what pastimes times iorneys shee be guild If her lips daine to sweeten my poore name Saie all and all well said saie still the same O Fate or fault O curst child of my blisse VVhat sobs can giue wordes grace my griefe to show VVhat inke is black enough to paint my woe Through mee wretch mee euen Stella vexed is Yet Trueth if Caitiues brath might call thee his VVitnes with mee that I foole stumbling fell For carelesnes did in no manner growe But wit confusd with too much care did misse And do I then my selfe this vaine scuse giue I do sweete Loue and knowe this harmed thee The world quit mee shal I my selfe forgiue Onely with paines thy paines thus eased be That all thy hurtes in my hearts wracke I reed I crye thy sighs my deare thy teares I bleed GReefe find the words for thou hast made my vaine So darke with mistie vapours which arise From out thy heauie mould that euen mine eyes Can scarce discerne the shape of mine owne paine Do thou then for thou canst do thou complaine For my poore soule which wit that sicknes tries VVhich euen to sense sense of it selfe denies Though harbengers of death and of his traine The execution of my fate forbeares As of a Caitife not vouchsaft to die Yet shewe thy hate of life in liuing teares That though in wretchednes thy life doth lie Thou maist more wretched be than nature beares As being plast in such a wretch as I. YEt sighes deare sighes indeede true friends you are That do not leaue your best friend at the wurst But as you with my brest I oft haue nurst So gratefull now you wait vpon my care Faint coward Ioye no longer tarrie dare Seeing hope did yeeld when this woe strake him first Delight exclaims is for my fault curst Although my mate in Armes himselfe he sware Nay Sorrow in as great a rage as hee Kills his owne children Teares finding that they By Loue were made apt to consort with mee Onely true Sighes you do not go away Thank may you haue for such a thankfull part Thank worthiest yet when you shall breake my heart THough with good cause thou lik'st so well the night Since kind or chaunce giues both one libertie Both sadly blacke both blackly darkned be Night bard from Sunne thou from thine own Sunnes light Silence in both displaies his sullen might Slowe Heauens in both do hold the one degree That full of doubts thou of perplexitie Thy teares expresse nights natiue moysture right In both a wofull solitarines In night of Spirits the gastly power sturr And in our sprites are Spirits gastlines But but alas nights sights the ods hath furr For that at length inuites vs to some rest Thou though still tyr'd yet still dost it detest DIan that faine would cheare her friend the Night Doth shewe her oft at full her fairest face Bringing with her those starrie Nymphs whose chace From heauenly standing hurts eche mortall wight But ah poore Night in loue with Phoebus light And endlesly dispairing of his grace Her selfe to shewe no other ioy hath place Sylent and sad in moorning weeds doth dight Euen so alas a Ladie Dians peere VVith choise delight and rarest company VVould faine driue clouds from out my heauie cheere But woe is mee though ioy her selfe were shee Shee could not shewe my blind braine waies of ioy While I dispaire my Sunnes light to enioy AH bed the feeld where ioyes peace some do see The feeld where al my thoughts to war be traind How is thy grace by my strange fortune staind How thy low shrowdes by my sighs stormed be With sweet soft shades thou oft inuitest mee To steale some rest but wretch I am constrained Spurd with Loues spurr this held shortly rained With Cares hard hand to turne and tosse in thee VVhile the black horrors of the silent night Paint VVoes black face so liuely in my sight That tedious leasure markes eche wrinckled line But when Aurora leades out Phoebus daunce Mine eyes then onely winke for spite perchaunce That wormes should haue their Sunne I want mine WHen farre spent night perswades each mortal eie To whome nor Art nor Nature graunted light To laye his then marke wanting shaftes of sight Clos'd with their quiuers in Sleeps armorie VVith windowes ope then most my heart doth lye Viewing the shape of darknes and delight And takes that sad hue with which inward might Of his mazde powres he keepes iust harmony But when birds chirpe aire and sweete aire which is Mornes messenger with rose enameld skyes Calls each wight to salute the heauen of blisse Intombd of lids then buried are mine eies Forst by their Lord who is ashamd to find Such light in sense with such a darkned mind OH teares no teares but shoures from beauties skies Making those Lilies and those Roses growe VVhich aie most faire now fairer needs must show VVhile grateful pitty Beauty beautifies Oh minded sighs that from that breast doe rise VVhose pants doe make vnspilling Creame to slow VVinged with woes breath so doth Zephire blow As might refresh the hel where my soule fries Oh plaints conseru'd in such a sugred phrase That eloquence enuies and yet doth praise VVhile sightd out words a perfect musicke giue Such teares sighs plaints no sorrow is but ioy Or if such heauenly sighs must proue annoy All mirth farewel let me in sorrow liue STella is sicke and in that sick-bed lyes Sweetenes that breathes and pants as oft as she And Grace sicke too such fine conclusions tries That Sicknes brings it selfe best grac'd to bee Beautie is sicke but sicke in such faire guise That in that palenes Beauties white we see And Ioy which is vnseuer'd from those eyes Stella now learnes strange case to weepe with me Loue moues thy paine and like a faithful page As thy looks sturre runs vp and downe to make All folkes prest at thy wil thy paine to swage Nature with care seeks for hir darlings sake Knowing worlds passe ere she enough can finde Of such heauen stuffe to cloath so heauenly minde WHere be those Roses which so sweetned earst our eies VVhere be those red cheekes which fair increase did frame No hight of honor in the kindly badge of shame
faith of priuiledge could no whit protect it That was with bloud and three yeres witnes signed VVhereby she had no cause once to suspect it For well she saw my loue and how I pined Yet no hopes letter would her brow reueale mee No comforts hue which falling spirits erecteth VVhat bootes to lawes of succour to appeale mee Ladies and tyrants neuer lawes respecteth Then there I die where I had hope to liuen And by her hand that better might haue giuen Sonnet 18. LOoke in my griefes blame me not to mourne From thought to thought that lead a life so bad Fortunes Orphan hers and the worlds scorne VVhose clowded brow doth make my daies so bad Long are their nights whose cares doo neuer sleepe Lothsome their dayes whom neuer sunne yet ioyed A pleasing griefe impressed hath so deepe That thus I liue both day and night annoyed Yet since the sweetest roote doth yeeld thus much Her praise from my complaint I must not part I loue the effect because the cause is such I praise hir face and blame hir flintie hart VVhilst that we make the world admire at vs Her for disdaine and me for louing thus Sonnet 19. HAppie in sleepe waking content to languish Imbracing cloudes by night in day time mourne All things I loth saue hir and mine owne anguish Pleasd in my heart mooued to liue forlorne Nought doe I craue but loue death or my Ladie Horce with crying mercie mercie yet my merit So manie vowes and praiers euer made I That now at length to yeeld meere pittie were it Yet since the Hidra of my cares renewing Reuiues still sorrowes of hir fresh disdaining Still must I goe the Summer winds pursuing And nothing but hir loue and my harts paining Weep howrs grieue daies sigh months still mourn yearly Thus must I doe because I loue hir dearelie Sonnet 20. IF Beautie bright be doubled with a frowne That Pitie cannot shine through to my blisse And Disdaines vapors are thus ouergrowen That my liues light to me quite darkened is VVhy trouble I the world then with my cries The aire with sighs the earth below with teares Since I liue hatefull to those ruthfull eyes Vexing with my vntuned mone her daintie eares If I haue lou'd her dearer than my breath My breath that cals the heauens to witnes it And still hold her most deare vntill my death And if that all this cannot mooue one whit Yet let hir say that shee hath done me wrong To vse me thus and know I lou'd so long Sonnet 2. COme Death the Anchor hold of al my thoughts My last resort whereto my Soule appealeth For all too long on earth my fancie dotes Whiles dearest blood my fierie passions sealeth That hart is now the prospectiue of horror That honoured hath the cruelst Faire that liueth The cruelst Faire that knowes I languish for her And neuer mercie to my merite giueth This is the Laurell and her tryumphes prise To tread mee downe with foote of her disgrace Whilst I did build my fortune in her eyes And laid my soules rest on so faire a face That rest I lost my Loue my life and all Thus high attempts to lowe disgrace do fall Sonnet 22. IF this be Loue to drawe a wearie breath To paint on flods till the shore crie to the aire With prone aspect still treading on the earth Sad horror pale griefe prostrate dispaire If this be Loue to warre against my soule Rise vp to waile lie downe to sigh to grieue me With ceaseles toyle Cares restlesse stones to roule Still to complaine and mone whilst none relieue me If this be Loue to languish in such care Loathing the light the world my selfe and all VVith interrupted sleepes fresh griefes repaire And breath out horror in perplexed thrall If this be Loue to liue a liuing death Loe then loue I and draw this wearie breath Sonnet 23. MY cares drawes on my euerlasting night And horrors sable clowds dims my liues sunne That my liues sunne and thou my worldly light Shall rise no more to me my daies are donne Ile goe before vnto the myrtle shades To attend the presence of my worldes deare And dresse a bed of flowers that neuer fades And all things fit against her comming there If anie aske why that so soone I came Ile hide her fault and say it was my lot In life and death Ile tender her good name My life and death shall neuer be her blot Although the world this deed of hirs may blame The Elisian ghoasts shall neuer know the same Sonnet 24. THe Starre of my mishap imposd my paining To spend the Aprill of my yeares in crying That neuer found my fortune but in wayning VVith still fresh cares my bloud and bodie trying Yet her I blame not though she might haue blest me But my desiers wings so high aspiring Now melted with the Sunne that hath possest me Downe doo I fall from of my high desiring And in my fall doo crie for mercie speedie No piteous eye lookes backe vpon my mourning No helpe I finde when now most fauour neede I My Ocean teares drowne me and quench my burning And this my death must christen her anew Whiles faith doth bid my cruell Faire adieu Sonnet 25. TO heare the impost of a faith not faining That dutie paies and her disdaine extorteth These beare the message of my wofull paining These Oliue braunches mercie still exorteth These tributarie plaints with chast desires I send those eyes the cabinets of loue The paradise where to my soule aspires From out this hell which my afflictions proue Wherein poore soule I liue exil'd from mirth Pensiue alone none but dispaire about me My ioyes liberties perisht in their birth My care's long liu'd and will not die without me What shall I doo but sigh and waile the while My martyrdome exceedes the highest stile Sonnet 26. I Once may I see when yeares may wrecke my wrong And golden haires may change to siluer wyer And those bright rayes that kindle all this fier Shall faile in force their power not so strong Her beautie now the burden of my song VVhose glorious blaze the worlds eie doth admire Must yeeld her praise to tirant times desire Then fades the flower which fed her pride so long VVhen if she grieue to gaze her in her glasse VVhich then presents her winter withred hieu Goe you my verse goe tell her what she was For what she was she best may finde in you Your fierie heate lets not her glorie passe But Phoenix like to make her liue anew Sonnet 27. RAising my hope on hills of high desire Thinking to scale the heauen of her hart My slender meane presumes too high a part For disdaines thunderbolt made me retire And threw me downe to paine in all this fire Where lo I languish in so heauie smart Because th'attempt was far aboue my Art Hir state brooks not poore soules should come so nie hir Yet I protest my high aspiring will Was