fishes lyue in th' Ocean What colour'd flowers doe grow in Tempes field how many houres are since the world began Let him none else gyue iudgement of my griefe let him declare the beauties of my Loue And hee will say my paines passe all reliefe and hee will iudge her for a Saint aboue But as those things ther 's no man can vnfolde So nor her faire nor my griefe may be tolde Sonnet XXXIII THinking to close my ouer-watched eyes and stop the sluce of their vncessant flowing I layd me downe when each one gan to rise new-risen Sol his flame like coūt'nance shewing But griefe though drowsie euer yet neuer sleepes but still admits fresh entercourse of thought Duly the passage of each houre he keepes nor would he suffer me with sleepe be caught Some broken slumbers Morpheus had lent who greatly pittied my want of rest Whereat my hart a thousand thanks him sent and vow'd to serue him he was ready prest Let restlesse nights daies howres doe their spight I le loue her still and loue for me shall fight Sonnet XXXIIII WHY should a Maydens hart be of that proofe as to resist the sharpe-point'd darte of loue My Mistres eye kills strongest man aloofe mee thinks he 's weak that cannot quaile a Doue A louely Doue so faire and so diuine able to make what Cynick so e're liueth Vpon his knees to beg of her bright eyne one smiling looke which life frō death reuiueth The frozen hart of cold Zenocrates had beene dissolued into hote desire Had Phryne cast such sun-beames from her eyes such eyes are cause that my hart flames in fire And yet with patience I must take my woe In that my deerest loue will haue it so Sonnet XXXV ENd thys enchauntment Loue of my desires let me no longer languish for thy loue Ioy not to see mee thus consume in fires but let my cruell paines thy hard hart moue And now at last with pittifull regard eye me thy Louer lorne for lack of thee VVhich dying liues in hope of sweet reward which hate hath hetherto with-held from me Constant haue I been still in fancie fast ordayn'd by heauens to dote vpon thy faire Nor will I e're so long as life shall last say any's fairer breathing vitall ayre But when the Ocean sands shall lye vnwet Then shal my soule to loue thee Deere forget Sonnet XXXVI LOng did I wish before I could attaine the lookt for sight I so desir'd to see Too soone at last I saw what bred my baine and euer since hath sore tormented mee I sawe her selfe whom had I neuer seene my wealth of blisse had not been turn'd to baile Greedy regard of her my harts sole Queene hath chang'd my sommers sun to winters haile How oft haue I since that first fatall howre beheld her all-faire shape with begging eye Till shee vnkind hath kild me with a lowre and bad my humble-suing lookes looke by O pitty mee faire Loue and highest fame Shall blazed be in honour of thy name Sonnet XXXVII DID I not loue her as a Louer ought with purest zeale and faithfulnes of hart Then shee had cause to set my loue at nought and I had well deseru'd to feele this smart But holding her so deerely as I doe as a rare Iewell of most high esteeme Shee most vnkindly wounds and kills me so my nere-stain'd troth most causeles to misdeeme Neuer did one account of woman more then I of her nor euer woman yet Respected lesse or held in lesser store her Louers vowes then shee by mine doth set VVhat resteth then but I dispaire and die That so my death may glut her ruthlesse eye Sonnet XXXVIII HArken awhile Diella to a storie that tells of beauty loue and great disdaine The last causd by suspect but shee was sorry that tooke that cause true loue so much to paine For when she knew his faith to be vnfained spotles sincere most true and pure vnto her Shee ioy'd as if a kingdome shee had gained and lou'd him now as when he first did woo her I nere incurd suspition of my truth fairest Diella why wilt thou be cruell Impose some end to vndeserued ruth and learne by others how to quench hates fuell Reade all my Deere but chiefly marke the end And be to mee as shee to him a friend THE LOVE OF DOM Diego and Gyneura IN Catheloygne o'repeerd by Pyren Mountaines a Prouince seated in the East of Spaine Famous for hunting sports cleerest fountains a young heroyck gallant did remaine Hee Signior Dom Diego had to name Who for his constant faith had got such fame Nature had tryde her deepest skill on him for so the heauen-borne powers had her desired With such perfection framed shee each lim that at her owne worke shee herselfe admired Maiestick Ioue gaue him a Princely grace Apollo wit and Venus gaue his face This loue-some youth kinde Natures fairest child what for his beautious loue-alluring face And for he was so gracious and so milde was deem'd of all to be of heauenly race Men honord him and Maydens gaue him loue To make him famous Men and Maydens stroue Hunting he lou'd nor did he scorne to loue a truer-louing hart was neuer knowne Which well his Mistres cruelly did proue whose causelesse rigor Fame abroad hath blowne But now le ts tell how hee on hunting went And in what sports such pleasant time he spent Soone as the sunne had left his watry bed blushing for shame that he so long had slept Reuiuing those which duskie Night made dead when for his welcom Lambes on mountains lept Vp starts Diego and with shrill-voyc'd horne Tells hounds huntsmen of a cleere-fac'd morne Cloth'd all in Greene Syluanus lyuery he wore a low-crown'd hat of finest silke Whose brim turnd vp was fastned with a Ruby and vnderneath a Pearle as white as milke A sleeueles coate of Damaske richly laced With Indian pearle as thicke as could be placed A glistring Cutlax pendent by his side he much esteem'd the beast-dismembring blade And halfe-leg'd Buskins curiously ytide with loopes of burnisht gold full finely made Thus goes Diego chiefest of his name With siluer-headed speare to finde some game Long while it was ere any sport began at last a Hart his big-growne hornes did shew VVhich winding straight the huntsmen gan to run as fast as arrow from a Parthyan bow In whose purfute by wil of powreful Fates Diego lost himselfe and all his mates Left thus alone in midst of vnknowne place he inuocates the fauourable ayde Of Ariadne who with smalest lace freed Monster-killing Theseus so dismaid In worser Laborinth did he now remaine For none saue trees or beasts could heare him plain In these Meanders stragling heere and there goes faire Diego listning to each sound Musing twixt purple hope and palish feare he thought to rest him wearied on the ground But see he heares a farre some forced noyse A horne a hound or els some human voyce VVith that Desire which scornes
proue nor in my hart that any else should dwell Let this suffize my ioy my deere my chiefe My griefes are too too long though letter briefe T was time to ende for floods gusht out amaine out came the springtide of his brinish teares VVhich whatsoere hee writ blot out againe all blubred so to send it scarce hee dares And yet hee did goe thou quoth hee vnto her And for thy maister treate sollicite woo her And pray thee if thy Fortune be so good as to be viewd by sunshine of her eyes Bid her take heede in spilling guiltlesse blood tell her there 's danger in such cruelties VVith this hee gaue it to the messenger Who making speed in short time brought it her Shee when shee heard from whom the Letter came returnes it backe againe and straight replied My friend quoth she hadst thou not told his name perhaps thy Letter had not beene denied VVhereat shee paus'd but yet I le see quoth shee With what perswading termes he flatters mee T was quickly read God knowes it was but short griefe would not let the wryter tedious be Nor would it suffer him fit words to sort but pens it chaos-like confusedly Yet had it passion to haue turn'd hard stones To liquid moisture if they heard his moanes But cruell shee more hard then any flint worse then a Tygresse of Hyrcania Would not be mou'd nor could his lines take print in her hard hurt so cruell was Gyneura Shee which once lou'd him deerly too too well Now hates him more then any tongue can tell Oh Nature chiefest Mother of vs all why did you giue such apt-beleeuing harts To women-kind that thus poore men inthrall and will not dulie waie true loues desarts O had their harts been like vnto their face They sure had been of some celestiall race Shee pittiles sends backe to Dom Diego and sayes his words cannot inchant her hart Vlisses-like shee will not heare Calypso nor lend her eares to such intising arte Bid him quoth she froÌ„ henceforth cease to write Tell him his Letters agrauate my spight Full heauie newes it was to stainelesse loue to him that had enshrin'd her in his thought And in his hart had honor'd her aboue the world to whoÌ„ all else saue her seem'd nought Nay vnto him whose person wit and faire Might surely with the best make iust compare But blinded as shee was shee steemes him not hate and disdaine doe neuer brooke respect Shee did not knowe that beauties foulest blot consisted in true-louing hâ—rts neglect No she more stubborne theÌ„ the North-east wind VVould not admit such knowledge in her mind Let those who guiltlesslie haue felt disdaine whose faithfull loue hath beene repaid with hate Giue rightfull iudgement of Diegoes paine who bought his fauours at the highest rate This newes such pleasure in his soule had bred As hath the thiefe that hearts his iudgement read After some time hee writes againe vnto her hee could not thinke shee would perseuer so But when hee sawe her aunswere like the other hee then surceas'd to send her any moe But did resolue to seeke some vncouth place VVhere he might vnfound out bewaile his case Thinking indeede shee by his absence might at length intenerate her flintfull hart And metamorphize her conceaued spight into true loue regardaunt of his smart Hee seekes all meanes poore Louer how to gaine His rigorous Lady from such fell disdaine At last hee calls to mind the Pyren Mountaines those far-fam'd woody hills of wealthy Spaine Which for wild Beasts siluer visag'd Fountaines hath got the praise of all that there remaine Hether postes Dom Diego fraught with griefe Hoping those woods would yield him some reliefe VVhere being come all Pilgrim-like attir'd hee pryes about to see if hee could finde Some house-like Caue for rest hee much desir'd his body now was wearie as his minde O Gods quoth hee if youth finde such distresse VVhat hope haue I of future happines VVith that hee sees a Rocke made like a Cabin all tapistred with Natures mossie greene VVrought in a frizled guise as it had been made for Napaea Mountaines chiefest Queene At mouth of which grew Cedars Pines Firs And at the top grew Maple Yough and Poplers So heere quoth hee I le rest my wearied bodie in thee delightfull place of Natures building VVill I erect a griefe-fram'd Monasterie where night day my prayers I le ne're cease yielding To thee my decre no other Saint I haue Oh lend thine eares to him that his hart gaue Two dayes were spent in this so pleasant seate this stone-built Pallace of the King content Before Diego tasted any meate or once did drinke more then his eyes had lent O irresisted force of purest Loue Whom paines thirst hunger can no whit remoue Sometimes when as he scans her crueltie feeles his paines like Hydreas head increasing Hee wisht the Scithian Anthropophagie did haunt these woods that liue by mans flesh eating Or else the Thracian Bessi so renound For cruell murdring whom in woods they found That so the Gordyon knot of his paine indissoluble e're whiles he did lyue Might be vntide when as his hart were slaine when he ô restfull time shold cease to grieue But yet the Sisters kept his vitall breath They would not let him dye so base a death Some other times when as he waies her beautie her Venus-stayning face so wondrous faire Hee then doth thinke to waile t is but his dutie sith caus'd by her that is without compaire And in this moode vnto high Ioue hee prayes And praying so hee thus vnto him sayes Great Gouernour of wheele-resembling Heauen commaund thy vnder Princes to mayntaine Those heaueÌ„ly parts which to my loue th 'aue giuen ô let her ne're feele death or deaths fell paine And first vpon thy Sister lay thy mace Bid her maintayne my Loues maiestick grace Inioyne the strange-borne mother-lesse Mynerua and her to whom the fomie Sea was Mother Still to vphold their giftes in my Gyneura let wit and beautie lyue vnited with her With sweete mouth'd Pytho I may not suspence Great Goddesse still increase her eloquence Thou musicall Apollo gau'st her hand and thou her feete great Sun-Gods deerest loue To such your rare-knowne gyfts all gracious stand and now at last this doe I craue great Ioue That when they dye perhaps they dye aboue Thou wilt bequeath these gyfts vnto my Loue. On euery neighbour Tree on euery stone hee durst not far range from his secure Caue VVould he cut out the cause of all his moane and curiouslie with greatest skill ingraue There needed no Leontius his Art Griefe carueth deepest if it come from th' hart VVhen some stone would not impression take hee straight compares it to his Mistris hart But stay quoth he my working teares shall make thee penetrable with the least-skil'd art Oh had my teares such force to pierce her mind These sorrowes I should loose and new ioyes find Thou euer-memorable stone quoth
thy sun-like rayes that hard froz'd hate may so dissolue and seuer Oh were thou not much harder then a flint thou had'st ere this been melted into loue In firmest stone small raine doth make a print but seas of teares cannot thy hardnes moue Then wretched I must die before my time Blasted spoyled in my budding prime Sonnet X. WHen Flora vaunts her in her proude array clothing faire Tellus in a spangled gowne VVhen Boreas furie is exild away and all the VVelkin cleer'd from cloudy frowne At that same time all Natures chyldren ioy trees leaues flowers bud plants spring beasts increase Only my soule surcharg'd with deep annoy cannot reioyce nor sighes nor teares can cease Onely the grafts of sorrow seeme to grow set in my hart no other spring I finde Delights and pleasures are o're growne with woe laments and sobs possesse my weeping minde The frost of griefe so nyps Delight at roote No sunne but shee can doe it any boote Sonnet XI WHat shee can be so cruell as my Loue or beare a hart so pittilesse as shee VVhō loue lookes words teares prayers doe not moue nor sighes nor vowes preuaile to pittie mee Shee calls my loue a Synon to her hart my lookes shee saith are like the Crocadyles My words the Syrens sing with guilefull arte teares Cyrces flouds sighes vowes deceitful guiles But my poore hart hath no interpreter but loue lookes words teares prayers sighes or vowes Then must it die sith shee my Comforter what ere I doe nor liketh nor allowes VVith Titius thus the vultur Sorrow eats me With steele-twig'd rods thus tyrant Cupid beats me Sonnet XII THou like the faire-fac'd gold-encouerd booke whose lines are stuft with damned heresies Dost in thy face beare a celestial looke when in thy hart liue hell-borne cruelties With poysenous Toades the cleerest spring's infected and purest Launes nought worth if ful of staines So is faire beauty when true loue 's reiected when cole-blacke hate within the hart remaines Then loue my deere let that be Methrydate to ouer-come the venome of disdaine Be pittifull tread downe this killing hate conuert to sugred pleasure gall-full paine O sith Disdaine is foe vnto thy Faire Exile him thence there let him not repaire Sonnet XIII I Know within my mouth for bashfull feare and dread of your disdaine my words wil die I know I shall be striken dumbe my deere with doubt of your vnpittifull reply I know when as I shall before you lie prostrate and humble crauing help of you Mistie aspects will cloude your sun-bright eye scornefull lookes oreshade your beauties hewe I know when I shall pleade my loue so true so stainelesse constant loyall and vpright My truthfull pleadings will not cause you rue the ne're-heard state of my distressed plight I know when I shall come with face bedight with streaming teares faln frō my fountaine eyes Sonnet XIII Breathing forth sighes of most hart-breaking might my teares my sighes and me you will despise I know when with the power that in me lyes and all the prayers and vowes that women moue I shall in humblest mercy-mouing wise intreate beseech desire and beg your loue I know sweet mayden all will not remoue flynt-harted rigour from your rocky breast But all my meanes my sute and what I proue proues bad and I must liue in all vnrest Dying in life and liuing still in death And yet nor die nor drawe a life-like breath Sonnet XIIII WHē broad-fac'd riuers turne vnto their foūtains and hungry Wolues deuoured are by Sheep When Marine Dolphins play on snow-tipt Mountains foule-form'd Beares do in the Ocean keep Then shall I leaue to loue and cease to burne in these hot flames wherein I now delight But this I knowe the Riuers ne're returne nor silly Sheep with rauening Wolues dare fight Nor Dolphins leaue the Seas nor Beares the woods for Nature bids them all to keepe their kind Then eyes rayne forth your ouer-swelled floods till drowned in such Seas may make you blind Then harts delight sith I must loue thee euer Loue me againe and let thy loue perseuer Sonnet XV. NO sooner leaues Hyperion Thetis bed and mounts his coach to post from thence away Richly adorning faire Lencotheas head gyuing to mountaynes tincture from his ray But straight I rise where I could find no rest where visions and fantasies appeare And when with small adoo my body 's drest abroad I walke to thinke vpon my deere VVhere vnder vmbrage of some aged Tree with Lute in hand I sit and sighing say Sweete Groues tell forth with Eccho what you see good Trees beare witnes who is my decay And thou my soule speake speake what rest I haue When each our ioyes dispayre doth make me raue Sonnet XVI BVt thou my deere sweet-sounding Lute be still repose thy troubled strings vpon this mosse Thou hast full often easd me gainst my will lye down in peace thy spoile were my great losse I le speake inough of her too cruell hart enough to mooue the stonie Rocks to ruth And cause these trees weepe tears to heare my smart though cruell she will not once way my truth Her face is of the purest white and red her eyes are christall and her haire is gold The world for shape with garlands crown her head And yet a Tygresse hart dwells in this mold But I must loue her Tigresse too too much Forc'd must I loue because I finde none such Sonnet XVII THE sun-scorcht Sea-man when he sees the Seas all in a furie hoise him to the skye And throwe him down againe as waues do please so chased clouds from Eols mastiues flye In such distresse prouideth with great speede all meanes to saue him from the tempests rage Hee shewes his wit in such lyke time of neede the big-swolne billowes furie to asswage But foolish I although I see my death and feele her proud disdayne too feelinglie VVhich me of all felicitie bereaueth yet seeke no meanes t' escape this miserie So am I charm'd with hart-inchaunting beautie That still to waile I thinke it is my dutie Sonnet XVIII CVpid had done some heynous act or other that caus'd Idalea whip him very sore The stubborne Boy away runs from his Mother protesting stoutly to returne no more By chance I met him who desir'd reliefe and crau'd that I some lodging would him giue Pittying his lookes which seemed drown'd in griefe I tooke him home there thinking hee should liue But see the Boy enuying at my lyfe which neuer sorrowe neuer loue had tasted Hee rays'd within my hart such vncouth stryfe that with the same my body now is wasted By thanklesse Loue thus vilely am I vsed By vsing kindnes I am thus abused Sonnet XIX WHen night returnes backe to his vgly mantion cleer-fac'd morning makes her bright vprise In sorowes depth I murmur out his caution salt teares distilling from my dewy eyes O thou deceitfull Somnus God of Dreames cease to afflict my ouer-pained spright VVith vayne
Diella Certaine Sonnets adioyned to the amorous Poeme of Dom Diego and Gineura ⸪ By R. L. Gentleman Ben balla á chi fortuna suona AT LONDON Printed for Henry Olney and are to be sold at his shop in Fleetstreete neer the Middle-temple gate 1596. TO THE MOST worthily honoured and vertuous beautified Lady the Ladie Anne Glemnham wife to the most noble magnanimious and woorthy Knight Sir Henry Glemnham c. MAdam your many honourable vertues hauing tyed mee to your eternall seruice to shevve some part of my dutie I present your Ladiship with a fewe passionate Sonnets intermingled vvith the loues of Dom Diego and Gineura Daine gentle Lady to accept them and therein shew the greatnesse of your benignitie in receiuing curteouslie a gift of so smal worth which though it cannot any wayes equall eyther the number of your vertues or the greatnes of that noble house whence your Ladiship is discended impute it not Madam to my defect of iudgement but of Fortune for were I furnished with the greatest riches that blind Goddesse could bestow on a man of my state both they and I woulde fall prostrate at your feete and euer rest at your Ladiships deuotion yet Madam as it is it is a chylde of the Muses therfore worthy to be cherrished conceiued in the braine of a gallant Gentleman therefore to be fauoured sent into the worlde by mee who haue euer honoured your Ladyshyp and therefore craue of your Ladiship to bee protected to whom I euer vvishe long life lengthened with all honorable happines Your Ladiships in all dutie Henry Olney Sonnet I. WHen first the feather'd God did strike my hart with fatall and ymedicable wound Leauing behind the head of his fell dart my bloodlesse body fell vnto the ground And when with shame I reinforc'd my might boldly to gaze on her so heauenly face Huge flames of fire she darted from her light which since haue scorcht me in most pitious case To quench which heate an Ocean of teares haue gushed out from forth my red-swolne eyes But deep-fetch'd sighes this raging flame vpreares and blowes the sparkes vp to the purple skies Whereat the Gods afraid that heauen should burne Intreated Loue that I for e're might mourne Sonnet II. SOone as the Azur-color'd Gates of th' East were set wide open by the watchful Morne I walkt abroad as hauing tooke no rest for nights are tedious to a man forlorne And viewing well each pearle-bedewed flower then waxing dry by splendour of the sunne All scarled-hew'd I saw him gin to lower and blush as though some haynous act were don At this amaz'd I hy'de me home amaine thinking that I his anger caused had And at his set abroad I walkt againe when loe the Moone lookt wondrous pale and sad Anger the one and enuie mou'd the other To see my loue more faire then Loues faire mother Sonnet III. SWift-footed Time looke back here mark well those rare-shapt parts my pen shal now declare My mistres snow-white skinne doth much excell the pure-soft woll Arcadyan sheepe doe beare Her hayre exceedes gold forc'd in smallest wyre in smaller threds then those Arachne spun Her eyes are christall fountaines yet dart fire more glorious to behold then Mid-day sun Her Iuory front though soft as purest silke lookes like the table of Olympick Ioue Her cheekes are like ripe cherries layd in milke her Alablaster neck the throne of Loue Her other parts so farre excell the rest That wanting words they cannot be exprest Sonnet IIII. WHat sugred termes what all-perswading arte what sweet mellifluous words what woūding lookes Loue vsd for his admittance to my hart such eloquence was neuer read in bookes He promisd pleasure rest and endlesse ioy fruition of the fairest shee aliue His pleasure paine rest trouble ioy annoy haue I since found which me of blisse depriue The Troian horse thus haue I now let in wherein inclosd these armed men were plac'd Bright eyes faire cheekes sweet lips milk-white skin these foes my life haue ouerthrown raz'd Faire outward shewes proue inwardly the worst Loue looketh faire but Louers are accurst Sonnet V. THE little Archer viewing well my loue stone-still amaz'd admired such a sight And swore he knew none such to dwell aboue though many faire none so conspicuous bright With that inrag'd flamigerous as he is he now gan loathe his Psiches louely face And swore great other to rob me of my blisse saying that earth for her was too too base But Cytherea checkt her lordly sonne commaunding him to bring no giglet thether Fearing indeed her amorous sports were done with hote-spur Mars if hee should once but see her If then her beauty moue the Gods aboue Let all men iudge if I haue cause to loue Sonnet VI. MIrror of beautie Natures fairest chyld Empresse of loue my harts high-prized Iewell Learne of the Doue to loue and to be milde be not to him that honors thee so cruell But as the Aspe deafe angry nothing meeke thou wilt not listen to my dolefull plaint Nor once wilt looke on my discolored cheeke which wanting blood causeth me oft to faint Then silent will I be if that will please thee yet so as in my stead each Plaine each Hill Shall eccho forth my griefe and thereby case mee for I my selfe of speaking haue my fill If Plaines and Hills be silent in my paine My death shall speake and tell what I sustaine Sonnet VII WHē Loue had first besieg'd my harts strong wal rampaird and countermur'd with chastitie And had with Ordnance made his tops to fall stouping their glory to his surquedry I call'd a parley and withall did craue some composition or some friendly peace To this request he his consent soone gaue as seeming glad such cruell warrs should cease I nought mistrusting opened all the gates yea lodg'd him in the Pallace of my hart VVhen loe in dead of night he seekes his mates and shewes each Traytor how to play his part VVith that they fir'de my hart and thence gan flie Their names Sweet smiles Faire face piercing Eye Sonnet VIII LIke to a Faulcon watching for a flight duly attending his desired game Haue I oft watcht and markt to haue a sight of thy faire face exceeding niggard Fame Thyne eyes those Semynaries of my griefe haue been more gladsome to my tyred spright Then naked sauadges receiue reliefe by comfort-bringing warmth of Phoebus light But when each part so glorious I had seene I trembled more then Autumnes parched leaues Mine eyes were greedy whirlepooles sucking in that heauenly faire which me of rest bereaues Then as thy beauty thus hath conquerd mee Faire let relenting pitty conquer thee Sonnet IX BLot not thy beautie fairest yet vnkinde with cruell vsage of a yeelding hart The stoutest Captaine scornes such bloody minde then mingle mercy where thou causedst smart Let him not die in his May-springing dayes that liuing vowes to honour thee for euer Shine forth some pitty from
illusions and idle Theames thy spells are false thou canst not charme aright For when in bed I thinke t' imbrace my loue inchaunted by thy magique so to thinke Vaine are my thoughts t is empty ayre I proue that still I waile till watching make me winke And when I winke I wish I nere might wake But sleeping carryed to the Stigian Lake Sonnet XX. THE strongest Pyne that Queene Feronia hath growing within her woody Emperie Is soone throwne downe by Boreas windy wrath if one roote onely his supporter be The tallest Ship that cuts the angry Waue and plowes the Seas of Saturnes second sunne If but one Anchor for a iourney haue when that is lost gainst euery Rocke doth runne I am that Pyne faire loue that Ship am I and thou that Anchor art and roote to me If then thou faile oh faile not I must die and pyne away in endlesse miserie But words preuaile not nor can sighes deuise To mooue thy hart if bent to tyrannize Sonnet XXI AS winters rage young plants vnkindly spilleth as haile greene Corne and lightning floures perish So mans decay is loue whose hart it killeth if in his soule bee carefully it cherrish O how alluringly hee offers grace and breathes newe hope of lyfe into our thought VVith cheerefull pleasant yet deceitfull face he creepes fawnes till in his net w' are caught Then when he sees vs Captiues by him led and sees vs prostrate humbly crauing helpe So feirce a Lyon Lybia neuer bred nor Adders sting nor any Tigresse whelpe Oh blest be they that neuer felt his force Loue hath nor pittie mercy nor remorse Sonnet XXII LOoke as a Bird through sweetnes of the call doth cleane forget the fowlers guilefull trap Or one that gazing on the starres doth fall in some deepe pit bewayling his mishap So wretched I whilst with Lynceus eyes I greedily beheld her Angels face VVas straight intangled with such subtilties as euer since I liue in wofull case Her cheekes were Roses layd in christall glasse her breastes two aples of Hesperides Her voyce more sweete then famous Thamiras reuiuing death with dorique mellodies I harkning so to this attractiue call VVas caught and euer since haue liu'd in thrall Sonnet XXIII MY lyues preseruer hope of my harts blisse when shall I know the doome of life or death Hells fearefull torments easier are then this soules agonie wherein I now doe breath If thou would'st looke this my teare-stayned face dreery and wan far diffring from it was VVould well reueale my most tormentfull case and shewe thy faire my griefe as in a glasse Looke as a Deere late wounded very sore among the Heard full heauely dooth feede So do I lyue expecting euermore when as my wounded hart shold cease to bleede How patient then would I endure the smart Of pitchy-countnanc'd Deaths dead-doing dart Sonnet XXIIII WHen leaden-harted sleepe had shut mine eyes and close o'redrawn their windolets of light Whose watrynes the fire of griefe so dries that weep they could no longer sleep they might Mee thought I sunke downe to a poole of griefe and thē me thought such sinking much did please me But when I downe was plung'd past all reliefe with flood-fill'd mouth I call'd that some wold ease mē Whereat me thought I saw my deerest loue fearing my drowning reach her hand to mine VVho pull'd so hard to get me vp aboue that with the pull sleepe did forsake mine eyne But when awakt I sawe t' was but a dreame I wisht t 'had slept and perrisht in that streame Sonnet XXV ROugh stormes haue calmes lopt boughes do grow againe the naked winter is recloth'd by spring No yeare so drie but there doth fall some raine Nature is kind saue me to euery thing Onely my griefes do neuer end nor cease no ebbe doth followe my still-flowing teares My sighes are stormes which neuer can appease their furious blastes procur'd by endlesse cares Then sighes and sobs tell Tantalus he 's blest goe flye to Titius tell him hee hath pleasure So tell Ixion though his wheele ne're rest their paines are sports imposed with some measure Bid them be patient bid them looke on me And they shall see the Map of miserie Sonnet XXVI THE loue-hurt hart which Tyrant Cupid wounds proudly insulting o're his conquer'd pray Doth bleede a fresh where pleasure most abounds for mirth and mourning alwayes make a fray Looke as a Bird sore bruzed with a blowe lately deuiding notes most sweetly singing To heare her fellowes how in tunes they flowe doth droope pine as though her knel were ringing The heauie-thoughted Prys'ner full of doubt dolefully sitting in a close-bar'd cage Is halfe contented till hee looketh out he sees each free then stormes hee in a rage The sight of pleasure trebleth euery payne As small Brooks swell and are inrag'd with rayne Sonnet XXVII THE heauens Herrald may not make compare of working words which so abound in thee Thy hony-dewed tongue exceedes his far in sweete discourse and tunefull mellodie Th'amber-color'd tresse which Berenice for her true-louing Ptholomeus vow'd VVithin Idaleas sacred Aphrodice is worth-lesse with thy lockes to be allow'd To thee my thoughts are consecrate deere loue my words phrases bound to please thine eares My lookes are such as any hart could moue I still sollicit thee with sighes and teares O let not hate eclypse thy beauties shine Then none would deeme thee earthly but deuine Sonnet XXVIII WEarie with seruing where I nought could get I thought to crosse great Neptunes greatest Seas To lyue in exile but my drift was let by cruell Fortune spightfull of such ease The Ship I had to passe in was my minde greedie desire was topsaile of the same My teares were surges sighes did serue for winde of all my Ship dispayre was cheifest frame Sorrowe was Maister care the cable rope griefe was the maine Mast Loue the Captaine of it He that did rule the helme was foolish hope but beautie was the Rocke that my ship split Which since hath made such shipwrack of my ioy That still I swim in th' Ocean of annoy Sonnet XXIX CEase eyes to cherrish with stil-flowing teares the almost witherd rootes of dying griefe Dry vp your running Brooks dam your meares and let my body die for moist reliefe But death is deaffe for well he knowes my paine my slakelesse payne hells horror doth exceede There is no hell so blacke as her disdaine whence cares sighes sorrowes and all griefes do breed In steede of sleep when day incloistred is in dustie pryson of infernall Night With broad-wakt eyes I waile my miseries and if I winke I feare some vgly sight Such fearefull dreames do haunt my troubled mind My Loue 's the cause cause shee is so vnkind Sonnet XXX HEe that can count the candles of the skie reckon the Sands whereon Pactolus flowes Or number nomberlesse small Attomie what strange hideous monsters Nilus showes What mishapt Beasts vast Affrica doth yield what rare-form'd
hee tell those whom fate or fortune heere shall lead How deerely I haue lou'd the cruel'st shee that euer Nature or the world hath bred Tell them her hate and her disdaine was causelesse Oh leaue not out to tell how I was guiltlesse Whereat the very stone would seeme to weepe whose wrinkled face wold be besmeard with tears O man what ere thou be thy sorrowes keepe vnto thy selfe quoth hee I le heare no cares Tell them that care not tell Gyneura of thee We stones are ruthfull thy plaints haue pierc'd mee VVith this hee seekes a russet-coated Tree straight disclothes him of his long-worne weed And whilest hee thus disroabes him busilie hee felt his halfe-dead hart a fresh to bleed Greeuing that hee should vse such crueltie To turne him naked to his foe windes furie But now vncas'd hee gins to carue his cares his passions his constant-lyuing Loue When loe there gushes out cleere sap like teares which to get forth from pryson mainly stroue Since pitty dwells quoth hee in trees and stone Them will I loue Gyneura thou hast none Yet needs I must confesse thou once didst loue mee thy loue was hotter then Nimphaeum hill But now whē time affords me means to proue thee thy loue then Caucase is more cold and chill And in thy cold like Aethiopyan hue Thou art not to be chang'd from false to true O looke faire Loue as in the springing Plant one branch intwines and growes within another So growe my griefes which makes my hart to pant when thicke-fetcht sighes my vitall breath doth smother I spoild my cruelty am adiudg'd to death Thus all alone to yield my lyuing breath Thou hast the fayrest face that e're was seene but in thy breast that Alablaster Rocke Thou hast a fouler hart disdaine hath beene accounted blacker then the Chimnies stocke O purifie thy soule my dearest Loue Dislodge thy hate and thy disdaine remoue But all in vaine I speake vnto the wind then should they carry these my plaints vnto her Mee thinks thou still shouldst beare a gentle mind deere louing Zephire pray intreate woo her Tell her t were pittie I should dye alone Here in these woods wher non can heare me mone But t is no matter shee is pittylesse like the Scycilian stone that more t is beate Doth waxe the harder stones are not so ruthlesse which smallest drops doe pierce though nere so great If Seas of teares would weare into her hart I had ere this beene eased of my smart Thus in these speeches would Diego sit bathing his siluer cheekes with trickling teares VVhich often running downe at last found fit channells to send them to their standing meares VVho at his feete before his feete there stood A poole of teares receau'd the smaller flood Ne're had the world a truer louing hart Abydos cease to speake of constant loue Por sure thou Sygnior Dom Diego art the onely man that e're hates force did proue Thy changelesse loue hath close inrol'd thy name In steele-leau'd booke of euer-lyuing fame That wide-mouth'd time with swallows good desarts shall shut his iawes ne're deuoure thy name Thou shalt be crown'd with bayes by louing harts and dwell in Temple of eternall Fame There is a sacred place reseru'd for thee There thou shalt liue with perpetuitie So long liu'd poore Diego in this case that at the length hee waxed somwhat bold To search the woods where hee might safely chase necessitie thy force cannot be told The fearefull Hare the Connie and the Kid Time made him knowe the places where they bid This young-year'd Hermit one day mong the rest as hee was busilie prouiding meate VVhich was with Natures cunning almost drest dri'd with the Sunne new readie to be eate Inrag'd vpon a suddaine throwes away His hard-got foode and thus began to say O cruell starres Step-mothers of my good you you ruthlesse Fates what meane you thus So greedely to thirst for my harts blood why ioy you so in vnuniting vs Great powres infuse some pitty in her hart That thus hath causelesse caus'd in me this smart I ne're was wont to vse such Cookerie to drudge toile whē pesants take their pleasure My noble birth scornes base-borne slauerie this easelesse lyfe hath neither end nor measure Thou great Sosipolis looke vpon my state Be of these nere-hard griefes compassionate I feele my long-thought life begin to melt as doth the snowe gainst midday heate of Sunne Faire loue thy rigour I haue too much felt oh at the last with crueltie haue done If teares thy stonie hart could mollifie My brinish springs should floe eternallie Sweet loue behold those pale cheekes washt in woe that so my teares may as a mirror be Thine owne faire shaddowe liuely for to shoe and portraite forth thy Angel-hued beautie Narcissus-lyke then shouldst thou my face kisse More honny sweete then Venus gaue Adonis Feare not Gyneura faire Narcissus hap thy necke thy breast thy hand is Lilly-white They all are Lillies tane from Floraes lap ne're be thou chang'd vnlesse to loue from spite Oh that thou wer 't but then transformed so My Sommers blisse would change my winters woe If thou did'st knowe in what a loathsome place I spend my dayes sad and disconsolate VVhat foggie Stigian mists hang o're my face thou would'st exile this thy conceaued hate This Hemisphere is darke for Sol him shroudes My sighes doe so conglomerate the cloudes I tolde thee I thou cruell too seuere when hate first gan to rise how I was guiltlesse Thine eares were deaffe that would'st not harken ere thee thy hart was hardned rockie pittilesse Oh had mine eyes been blind whē first they view'd Would God I had been tonglesse whē I sew'd thee But thou wast then as readie to receaue as I to craue ô great inconstancie O t was that fatall houre did so bereaue my blisfull soule of all tranquillitie Thou then didst burne in loue now froz'd in hate Yet pittie mee sweete mercy ne're comes late Looke as the crazen tops of armelesse Trees or latest down-fall of some aged building Doe tell thee of the North-windes boistrous furies and how that Eolus lately hath beene stirring So in my thin cheekt face thou well maist see The furious storme of thy black crueltie But thou inexorable art ne're to be wone though Lyons Bears Tigers haue been tam'd Thy wood-borne rigour neuer will be done which thinks for this thou euer shalt be fam'd True so thou shalt but fam'd in infamie Is worse then lyuing in obscuritie If thou didst knowe howe greeuous t is to me to lyue in this vnhabited aboade Where none but sorrowe keepes me companie I know thou wouldst thy harts hate then vnload Oh I did ne're deserue this miserie For to denie the truth were heresie I tell thee Loue when secret-tongued night puts on her mistie sable-coloured vayle My wrangling woes within them selues do fight they murder hope which makes their Captaine wayle And wailing so can neuer take his