THE TEARS OF Fancy. OR, Love Disdained.  Aetna gravius Amor. 
Printed at London for William Barley, dwell●●● in Gracious street over against Leaden Hall. 1593.   


ID   
Go Idle lines unpolished rude and base,  
Unworthy words to blazon beauty's glory:  
(Beauty that hath my restless heart in chase,  
Beauty the subject of my rueful story.)  
I warn thee shun the bower of her abiding,  
Be not so bold ne hardy as to use to her:  
Lest she enraged with thee fall a chiding,  
And so her anger prove thy woes renewer.  
Yet if she deign to rue thy dreadful smart,  
And reading laugh, and laughing so mislike thee:  
Bid her desist, and look within my heart,  
Where she may see how ruthless she did strike me.  
If she be pleased though she reward thee not,  
What others say of me regard it not.   


Sonnet. I.  
IN prime of youthly years as than not wounded,  
With loves empoisoned dart or bitter gall:  
Nor mind nor thoughts on fickle Fancy grounded,  
But careless hunting after pleasures ball.  
I took delight to laugh at lovers folly,  
Accounting beauty but a fading blossom:  
What I esteemed profane, they deemed holy,  
joying the thraldom which I counted loathsome.  
Their plaints were such as no thing might relieve them,  
Their hearts did wellnie break loves pain enduring:  
Yet still I smiled to see how love did grieve them,  
Unwise they were their sorrows self procuring.  
Thus whilst they honoured Cupid for a God,  
I held him as a boy not past the rod,   

Sonnet. II.  
LOng time I fought, and fiercely waged war,  
Against the God of amorous Desire:  
Who sets the senses 'mongst themselves atiarre,  
The heart inflaming with his lustfullfire.  
The winged boy upon his mother's knee,  
Wantonly playing near to Paphos' shrine:  
Scorning that I should check his Deity,  
Whose dreaded power tamed the gods divine.  
From forth his quiver drew the keenest dart,  
Wherewith high jove he oftentimes had wounded:  
And fiercely aimed it at my stubborn heart,  
But back again the idle shaft rebounded.  
Love saw and frowned, that he was so beguiled,  
I laughed outright, and Venus sweetly smiled.   

Son. III.  
She smiled to see her son in such a rage,  
I laughed to think how I had Love prevented:  
He frowned and vowed nought should his ire assuage,  
Till I had stooped to Love, and love repent.  
The more he raged the greater grew our laughter,  
The more we laughed the fiercer was his ire:  
And in his anger swore my poor heart's slaughter,  
Which in my breast beauty should set on fire.  
Fair Venus seeing her dear son in chollar,  
Fearing mishap by his too hasty anger:  
Persuaded him that she would work my dolor,  
And by her means procure my endless languor.  
So Love and loves Queen (Love having consented,  
Agreed that I by Love should be tormented.   

Sonnet. FOUR  
Tho' taking in her lap the God of love,  
She lightly mounted through the Crystal air:  
And in her Coach ydrawne with silver Doves,  
To Vulcan's smoky Forge she did repair.  
Where having won the Ciclops to her will,  
loves quiver fraught with arrows of the best:  
His bended bow in hand all armed to kill,  
He vowed revenge and threatened my unrest.  
And to be sure that he would deadly strike me,  
His blindfold eyes he did a while uncover:  
Choosing an arrow that should much mislike me,  
He bade wound him that scorns to be a Lover.  
But when he saw his bootless arrow shiver,  
He broke his bow, and cast away his quiver.   

Sonnet. V  
Hopeless and helpless too, poor love amated,  
To see himself affronted with disdain:  
And all his skill and power spent in vain,  
At me the only object that he hated.  
Now Cytherea from olympus mount,  
Descending from the sphere with her dear son:  
With Dovelike wings to Alcidalyon,  
Love on her knee, she by the Crystal fount;  
Advised the boy what scandal it would be,  
If Fame should to the open world discover  
How I survived and scorned Loves sacred power.  
Then Cupid lightly leaping from her knee,  
Unto his mother vowed my discontenting:  
Unhappy vow the ground of my lamenting.   

Sonnet. VI  
THen on the sudden fast away he fled,  
He fled apace as from pursuing foe:  
Ne ever looked he back, ne turned his head,  
Until he came whereas he wrought my woe.  
though casting from his back his bended bow.  
He quickly clad himself in strange disguise:  
In strange disguise that no man might him know,  
So couched himself within my Lady's eyes.  
But in her eyes such glorious barns did shine,  
That well-nigh burned loves party coloured wings,  
Whilst I stood gazing on her sunne-bright eyen,  
The wanton boy she in my bosom flings.  
He built his pleasant bower in my breast,  
So I in love, and love in me doth rest.   

Sonnet. VII.  
NOw Love triumphed having got the day,  
Proudly insulting, tyrannising still:  
As Hawk that seizeth on the yielding pray,  
So am I made the scorn of Victors will.  
Now eyes with tears, now heart with sorrow fraught,  
heart sorrows at my watery tears lamenting:  
Eyes shed salt tears to see hearts pining thought,  
And both that then love scorned are now repenting.  
But all in vain too late I plead repentance,  
For tears in eyes and sighs in heart must wield me:  
The feathered boy hath doomed my fatal sentence,  
That I to tyrannising Love must yield me.  
And bow my neck erst subject to no yoke,  
To loves false lure (such force hath beauty's stroke.   

Sonnet. VIII.  
O What a life is it that lovers joy,  
Wherein both pain and pleasure shrouded is:  
Both heavenly pleasures and eke hell's annoy,  
Hell's fowl annoyance and eke heavenly bliss.  
Wherein vain hope doth feed the lovers heart,  
And brittle joy sustain a pining thought:  
When black despair renews a lovers smart,  
And quite extirps what first content had wrought.  
Where fair resemblance eke the mind allureth,  
To wanton lewd lust giving pleasure scope:  
And late repentance endless pains procureth,  
But none of these afflict me save vain hope.  
And sad despair, despair and hope perplexing,  
Vain hope my heart, despair my fancy vexing.   

Sonnet. XVII.  
THen from her fled my heart in sorrow wrapped.  
Like unto one that shunned prusuing slaughter:  
All well nigh breathless told me what had happened,  
How both in Court and country he had sought her.  
The dreary tears of many love repenting,  
Corrivals in my love whom fancy stroked:  
Partners in love and partners in lamenting,  
My fellow thralls whose necks as mine were yoked.  
The shepherds praises and their hearts amiss,  
Urged by my Mistress over weening pride:  
For none that sees her but captived is,  
And last he told which to my heart did glide;  
How all the tears I spent were vain and forceles,  
For she in heart had vowed to be remorseless.   

Sonnet. XVIII.  
Tho' with a shower of tears I entertained,  
My wounded heart into my breast accloied:  
With thousand sundry cares and griefs unfeigned,  
Unfeigned griefs and cares my heart annoyed.  
Annoying sorrows at my hearts returning,  
Assailed my thoughts with never ceasing horror:  
That even my heart heart like to Aetna burning,  
Did often times conspire for to abhor her.  
But envious love still bend to eke my mourning,  
A grievous penance for my fault inflicted:  
That eyes should weep and heart be ever groaning;  
So love to work my sorrows was addicted.  
But earth's sole wonder whose eyes my sense appalled,  
The fault was loves, then pardon me, for love is frantic called.   

Sonnet. 19  
MY heart imposed this penance on mine eyes,  
(Eyes the first causers of my harss lamenting:  
That they should weep till love and fancy dies,  
Fond love the last cause of my hearts repenting.  
Mine eyes upon my heart inflict this pain,  
(Bold heart that dared to harbour thoughts of love)  
That it should love and purchase fell disdain,  
A grievous penance which my heart doth prove.  
Mine eyes did weep as heart had them imposed,  
My heart did pine as eyes had it constrained:  
Eyes in their tears my paled face disclosed,  
heart in his sighs did show it was disdained.  
So th'one did weep th'other sighed, both grieved,  
For both must live and love, both unrelieved.   

Sonnet. 20.  
MY heart accused mine eyes and was offended,  
Vowing the cause was in mine eyes aspiring:  
Mine eyes affirmed my heart might well amend it,  
If he at first had banished loves desiring.  
heart said that love did enter at the eyes,  
And from the eyes descended to the heart:  
Eyes said that in the heart did sparks arise,  
Which kindled flame that wrought the inward smart  
heart said eyes tears might soon have quenched that  
Eyes said hearts sighs at first might love exile:  
So heart the eyes and eyes the heart did blame,  
Whilst both did pine for both the pain did feel.  
heart sighed and bled, eyes wept and gazed too much,  
Yet must I gaze because I see none such.   

Sonnet. 21  
FOrtune forwearied with my bitter moan,  
Did pity seldom seen my wretched fate:  
And brought to pass that I my love alone,  
Unwares attached to plead my hard estate.  
Some say that love makes lovers eloquent,  
And with divinest wit doth them inspire:  
But beauty my tongue's office did prevent,  
And quite extinguished my first desire.  
As if her eyes had power to strike me dead,  
So was I dazed at her crimson die:  
As one that had beheld Medusa's head,  
All senses failed their Master but the eye.  
Had that sense failed and from me eke been taken,  
Then I had love and love had me forsaken.   

Sonnet. 22.  
I Saw the object of my pining thought,  
Within a garden of sweet natures placing:  
Where in an arbour artificial wrought,  
By workman's wondrous skill the garden gracing.  
Did boast his glory glory far renowned,  
For in his shady boughs my Mistress slept:  
And with a garland of his branches crowned,  
Her dainty forehead from the sunney kept.  
Imperious love upon her eyelids tending,  
Playing his wanton sports at every beck,  
And into every finest limb descending,  
From eyes to lips from lips to ivory neck.  
And every limb supplied and t'euerie part,  
Had free access but durst not touch her heart.   

Sonnet. 23  
A Ye me that love wants power to pierce the heart,  
Of my heart's object beauties rarest wonder:  
What is become of that hart-thrilling dart,  
Whose power brought the heavenly powers under.  
Ah gentle love if empty be thy quiver.  
un mask thyself and look within my breast:  
Where thou shalt find the dart that made me shiver,  
But can I live and see my love distressed.  
Ah no that shaft was cause of sorrow endless,  
And pain perpetual should my Lady prove:  
If heart were pierced, the dear love be not friendless,  
Although I never found a friend of love,  
If not without her heart, her love be gained,  
Let me live still forlorn and die disdained.   

Sonnet. XXIIII.  
STill let me live forlorn and die disdained,  
My heart consenting to continual languish:  
If love (my hearts sore) may not be obtained,  
But with the danger of my Lady's anguish.  
Let me oppose myself 'gainst sorrows force,  
And arm my heart to bear woes heavy load:  
Unpitied let me die without remorse,  
Rather than monster fame shall blaze abroad;  
That I was causer of her woes enduring,  
Or brought fair beauty to so fowl a damage:  
If life or death might be her joys procuring,  
Both life, love, death, and all should do her homage.  
But she lives safe in freedoms liberty,  
I live and die in loves extremity.   

Sonnet. XXV.  
THe private place which I did choose to wail,  
And dear lament my loves pride was a grove:  
Placed twixt two hills within a lowly dale,  
Which now by fame was called the vale of love.  
The vale of love for there I spent my plain,  
Plaints that bewrayed my sick hearts bitter wounding:  
Love sick hearts deep wounds with despair me paining,  
The bordering hills my sorrowing plaints resounding.  
Each tree did bear the figure of her name,  
Which my faint hand upon their backs engraved:  
And every tree did seem herefore to blame,  
Calling her proud that me of joys depraved.  
But vain for she had vowed to forsake me,  
And I to endless anguish must be take me.   

Sonnet. XXVI.  
IT pleased my Mistress once to take the air,  
Amid the vale of love for her disporting:  
The birds perceiving one so heavenly fair,  
With other Ladies to the grove resorting.  
'Gan dolefully report my sorrows endless,  
But she nill listen to my woes repeating:  
But did protest that I should sorrow friendless,  
So live I now and look for joys defeating.  
But joyful birds melodious harmony,  
Whose silver tuned songs might well have moved her:  
Enforced the rest to rue my misery,  
Though she denied to pity him that loved her.  
For she had vowed her fair should never please me,  
Yet nothing but her love can once appease me,   

Sonnet. 27.  
THe bank whereon I leaned my restless head,  
Placed at the bottom of a myrtle tree:  
I oft had watered with the tears I shed,  
Sad tears did with the fallen earth agree.  
Since when the flocks that graze upon the plain,  
Do in their kind lament my woes though dumb:  
And every one as faithful doth refrain  
To eat that grass which sacred is become.  
And every tree forbeareth to let fall,  
Their dewy drops 'mongst any brinish tears:  
One●●e the mirth whose heart as mine is thrall,  
To m●lt in sorrows source no whit forbear.  
So frantic love with grief our pained heart's wring▪  
That still we wept and still the grass was springing.   

Sonnet. 28.  
FAst flowing tears from watery eyes abounding,  
In tract of time by sorrow so constrained:  
And framed a fountain in which Echo sounding,  
The'nd of my plaints (vain plaints of Love disdained.)  
When to the well of mine own eyes weeping,  
I 'gan repair renewing former grieving:  
And endless moan Echo me company keeping,  
Her unrevealed woe my woe revealing.  
My sorrows ground was on her sorrow grounded,  
The Lad was f●ire but proud that her perplexed:  
Her hearts deep wound was in my heart deep wounded  
Fair and too proud is she that my heart vexed.  
But fair and too proud must release hearts pining,  
Or heart must sigh and burst with joys declining.   

Sonnet. 29.  
TAking a truce with tears sweet pleasures foe,  
I thus began hard by the fountain side:  
O dear copartner of my wretched way,  
Nosooner said but woe poor echo cried.  
Then I a gain what woe did thee betide,  
That can be greater than disdain, disdain:  
Quoth echo Then said I O women's pride,  
Pride answered echo. O inflicting pain,  
When woeful echo pain a gain repeated,  
Redoubling sorrow with a sorrowing sound:  
For both of us were now in sorrow seated,  
Pride and disdain disdainful pride the ground.  
That forced poor Echo mourn ay sorrowing ever,  
And me lament in tears ay joining never.   

Sonnet. 30.  
ABout the well which from mine eyes did flow,  
The woeful witness of heart's desolation:  
Yet tears nor woe nor aught could work compassion,  
Did divers trees of sundry natures grow.  
The myrrh sweet bleeding in the latter wound,  
Into the crystal waves her tears did power:  
As pitying me on whom blind love did lower,  
Upon whose back I wrote my sorrows ground.  
And on her rugged rind I wrote forlorn,  
Forlorn I wrote for sorrow me oppressed:  
Oppressing sorrow had my heart distressed,  
And made the abject outcast of loves scorn,  
The leaves conspiring with the winds sweet sounding,  
With gentle murmur playnd my hearts deep wounding.   

Sonnet. XXXI.  
I Written upon there sides to eke their plaining,  
If sad laments might multiply their sorrow:  
My loves fair looks and eke my loves disdaining,  
My loves coy looks constrains me pine for woe.  
My loves disdain which was her lovers dolour:  
My loves proud heart which my heart's bliss did banish:  
My loves transparent beams and rosy colour,  
The pride of which did cause my joys to vanish.  
My loves bright shining beeautie like the start,  
That early riseth sore for the suns appearance:  
A guide unto my thoughts that wandering are,  
Doth force me breath abroad my woes endurance.  
O life forlorn, O love unkindly frowning,  
Thy eyes my heart despair my sad hope drowning.   

Sonnet. XXXII.  
THose whose kind hearts sweet pity did at faint,  
With ruthful tears bemond my miseries:  
Those which had heard my never ceasing plaint,  
Or read my woes engraven on the trees.  
At last did win my Lady to consort them,  
Unto the fountain of my flowing anguish:  
Where she unkind and they might boldly sport them,  
Whilst I mean while in sorrows lap did languish.  
Their meaning was that she some tears should shed,  
Into the well in pity of my pining:  
She gave consent and putting forth her head,  
Did in the well perceive her beauty shining.  
Which seeing she withdrew her head puffed up with pride  
And would not shed a tear should I have died.   

Sonnet. XXXIII.  
Some say that women love for to be praised,  
But droop when as they think their fair must die:  
joying to have their beauty's glory raised,  
By fame's shrill trump above the starry sky.  
I than whom want of skill might be with drawing,  
Extolled her beauty not as yet deserved:  
She said my words were flattery and feigning,  
For good intent to bad event soon swerved.  
Some say again they will deny and take it,  
I gave my heart my heart that dearly cost me:  
No sooner offered but she did forsake it,  
Scorning my proffered gift so still she crossed me.  
But were I (alas I am not) false and truthless:  
Then had she reason to be stern and ruthless.   

Sonnet. XXXIIII.  
WHy live I wretch and see my joys decay,  
Why live I and no hope of loves advancing:  
Why do mine eyes behold the sunny day,  
Why live I wretch in hope of better chancing.  
O wherefore tells my tongue this doleful tale,  
That every ear may hear my bitter plaint:  
Was never heart that yet bemond my bale,  
Why live I wretch my pangs in vain to paint.  
Why strive I 'gainst the stream or 'gainst the hill,  
Why are my sorrows buried in the dust:  
Why do I toil and lose my labour still,  
Why do I feed on hope or build on trust.  
Since hope had never hap and trust finds treason,  
Why live I wretch disdained and see no reason?   

Sonnet. XXXV.  
AMongst the Idle toys that tosfe my brain,  
And reave my troubled mind from quiet rest:  
A●le cr●●d love I find doth still remain,  
To breed debate within my grieved breast.  
When weary woe doth work to wound my will,  
And heart surcharged with sorrow lives oppressed:  
My sowlen eyes then cannot wail there fill,  
Sorrow is so far spent and I distressed.  
My tongue hath not the cunning skill to tell,  
The smallest grief that gripes my trobbing heart:  
Mine eyes have not the secret power to swell,  
Into such huge seas of wounding smart.  
That will might melt to waves of bitter woe,  
And I might swelled or drown in sorrows so,   

Sonnet. 36.  
MY watery eyes let fall no trickling tears,  
But floods that over flow abundantly:  
Whose spring and fountain first in forced by fears,  
Doth drown my heart in waves of misery.  
My voice is like unto the raging wind,  
Which roareth still and never is at rest:  
The divers thoughts that tumble in my mind,  
Are restless like the wheel that wherles always.  
The smoky sighs that boil out of my breast,  
Are far unlike to those which others use:  
For lovers sighs sometimes do take their rest,  
And lends their minds a little space to muse.  
But mine are like unto the surging seas,  
Whom tempest calm nor quiet can appease.   

Sonnet. 37.  
WHere may I now my careful corpse convey,  
From company the worker of my woe:  
How may I wink or hide mine eyes always,  
Which gaze on that whereof my grief doth grow,  
How shall I seem my sighs for to suppress,  
Which help the heart which else would swelled in sunder,  
Which hurts the help that makes my torment less:  
Which helps and hurts, O woeful weary wonder,  
How now, but thus in solitary wise:  
To step aside and make high way to moan,  
To make two fountains of my dazzled eyes,  
To sigh my fill till breath and all begun.  
To die in sorrow and in woe repent me,  
That love at last would though too late lament me.   

Sonnet. 38.  
O Would my love although too late lament me,  
And pity take of tears from eyes distilling:  
To bear these sorrows well I could content me,  
And ten times more to suffer would be willing.  
If she would deign to grace me with her favour,  
The thought thereof sustained grief should banish:  
And in beholding of her rare behaviour,  
A smiyle of her should force despair to vanish:  
But she is bend to tiranze upon me,  
Despair persuades there is no hope to have her:  
My heart doth whisper I am woebegone me,  
Then cease thy vain plaints and desist to crave her.  
Here end my sorrows here my salt tears stint I,  
For she's obdurate, stern, remorseless flinty   

Sonnet XXX. XIX.  
Here end my sorrow no here my sorrow springeth,  
Here end my woe no here gins my wailing:  
Here cease my grief no here my grief deep wringeth  
Sorrow woe grief nor aught else is availing.  
Here cease my tears no here gins eyes weeping,  
Here end my plaints no here gins my pining:  
Here heart be free no sighs in heart still keeping,  
Tears plaints and sighs all cause of joys declining.  
Here end my love no here doth love inspire me,  
Here end my hope no here doth hope fair flourish:  
Hear end my life no let not death desire me,  
Love hope and life and all with me must perish.  
For sorrow woe grief tears and plaints oft plained,  
Sighs love hope life and I must die disdained.   

Sonnet. 40.  
THe common joy the cheer of company,  
Twixt mirth and moan doth plague me evermore:  
For pleasant talk or musics melody,  
Yields no such salve unto my secret sore.  
For still I live in spite of cruel death,  
And die again in spite of lingering life:  
Feed still with hope which doth prolong my breath,  
But choked with fear and strangled still with strife,  
Witness the days which I in dole consume,  
And weary nights bear record of my woe:  
O wrong● full world which mak'st my fancy fume,  
Fie fickle Fortune fie thou art my foe.  
O heavy hap so froward is my chance,  
No days nor nights nor worlds can me advance.   

Sonnet. 41.  
Imperious love who in the prime of youth,  
I light esteemed as an idle toy:  
Though late thy fiery dart hath caused my ruth,  
And turned sweet happiness to dark annoy.  
Why hast thou pleasure in my hearts deep groaning,  
And dost not rue and pity my vexations?  
Why hast thou joy at my laments and moaning,  
And art not moved at my imprecations?  
Why hast thou struck my heart with swift desire,  
And pierced my Lady's eyes with fell disdain?  
Why hath fond fancy set my thoughts on fire,  
And penned my heart in prison of sad pain?  
Why am I drowned in dolours never ceasing,  
My joys still fading, and my woes increasing.   

Sonnet. 42.  
O Thou that rulest in Ramnis' golden gate,  
Let pity pierce thy unrelenting mind:  
Unlade me of the burden cruel fate,  
(Fell envious fates too cruel and unkind)  
Have heaped upon me by too froward love,  
Too froward love the enemy of fortune:  
Whose fierce assaults my heart (too late) did prove,  
My silly heart which sorrow did importune.  
Yet in thy power is my hearts redeeming,  
My hearts redeeming from vile thraldom's force:  
Vile thrall to one my sorrows not esteeming,  
Though she be cruel yet have thou remorse.  
Be thou to me no more inconstant variable,  
But let thy fickle wheel rest firm and stable.   

Sonnet. 43.  
LOng have I swum against the wished wave,  
But now constrained by a loathsome life:  
I greedily do seek the greedy grave,  
To make an end of all these storms and strife.  
Sweet death give end to my tormenting woes,  
And let my passions penetrate thy breast:  
Suffer my heart which doth such griefs in close  
By timely fates enjoy eternal rest.  
Let me not dwell in dole sith thou mayst ease me,  
Let me not languish in such endless durance:  
One happy stroke of thy sad hand will please me,  
Please me good death it is thy procurance.  
To end my heart's grief (heart she did abhor thee)  
O hast thee gentle death I linger for thee.   

Sonnet. 44.  
LOng have I sued to fortune death and love,  
But fortune, love, nor death will deign to hear me:  
I fortunes frown, death's spite, loves horror prove,  
And must in love despairing live I fear me.  
love wounded me, yet nill recure my wounding,  
And yet my plaints have often him invoked:  
Fortune hath often heard my sorrows sounding,  
Sorrows which my poor heart have well-nigh choked.  
Death well might have been moved when I lamented,  
But cruel death was deaf when I complained:  
Death, love and fortune all might have relented,  
But fortune, love, and death, and all disdained.  
To pity me or ease my restless mind,  
How can they choose since they are bold and blind.   

Sonnet. 45.  
WHen neither sighs nor sorrows were of force  
I let my Mistress see my naked breast:  
where view of wounded heart might work remorse,  
And move her mind to pity my unrest.  
With fled fast eye she gazed on my heart,  
wherein she saw the picture of her beauty:  
which having seen as one aghast she start,  
Accusing all my thoughts with breach of duty.  
As if my heart had robbed her of her fair,  
No, no, her fair bereand my heart of joy:  
And fates disdain hath killed me with despair,  
Despair the fountain of my sad annoy.  
And more, alas, a cruel one I served,  
Lest loved of her whose love I most deserved.   

Sonnet. 46.  
MY Mistress seeing her fair counterfeit,  
So sweetly framed in my bleeding breast:  
On it her fancy she so firmly set,  
Thinking herself for want of it distressed.  
Envying that any should enjoy her Image,  
Since all unworthy were of such an honour:  
though 'gan she me command to leave my gage,  
The first end of my joy, last cause of dolour.  
But it so fast was fixed to my heart,  
joined with unseparable sweet commixture,  
That nought had force or power them to part:  
Here take my heart quoth I, with it the picture,  
But oh coy Dame intolleberable smart.  
Rather than touch my heart or come about it,  
She turned her face and choose to go without it.   

Sonnet. 47.  
BEhold dear Mistress how each pleasant green,  
will now renew his summers livery:  
The fragrant flowers which have not long been seen,  
will flourish now ere long in bravery.  
But I alas within whose mourning mind,  
The grafts of grief are only given to grow:  
Cannot enjoy the spring which others find,  
But still my will must whither all in woe.  
The lusty for that whilom might exchange,  
My grief to joy, and my delight increase:  
Springs now else where and shows to me but strange,  
My winter's woe therefore can never cease.  
In other coasts his sun doth clearly shine,  
And comfort lend to every mould but mine.   

Sonnet. 48.  
THe tender buds whom cold hath long kept in,  
And winter's rage enforced to hide their head:  
will spring and sprout as they do now begin,  
That every one will joy to see them spread.  
But cold of care so nips my joys at root,  
There is no hope to recover what is lost:  
No sun doth shine that well can do it boot,  
Yet still I strive but lose both toil and cost.  
For what can spring that feels no force of ver,  
what hour can flourish where no sun doth shine:  
These balls dear love, within my breast I bear,  
To break my bark and make my pith to pine.  
Needs must I fall, I fade both root and rind,  
My branches bow at blast of every wind.   

Sonnet. 49.  
DIana and her nymphs in sylvan brook,  
Did wash themselves in secret far apart:  
Bu● bold Actaeon dared on them to look,  
For which fair Phoebe turned him to a Hart.  
His hounds unwitting of his sudden change,  
Did hale and pull him down with open cry:  
He then repenting that he so did range,  
would speak but could not, so did sigh and die.  
But my Diana fairer and more cruel,  
Bereft me of my heart and in disdain:  
Hath turned it out to feed on fancy's fuel,  
And live in bondage and eternal pain.  
So heartless do I live yet cannot die,  
Desire the dog, doth chase it to and fro:  
Unto her breast for secure it doth fly,  
If she debar it whither shall it go.  
Now lives my heart in danger to be slain,  
Unless her heart my heart will entertain.   

Sonnet. 50.  
HAand, heart, and eye, touched thought and did behold,  
The only glory that on earth doth grow:  
Hand quaked, heart sighed, but eye was foolish bold,  
To gaze till gazing wrought hearts grounded woe.  
The object of these senses heavenly saint,  
with such a majesty did me appall:  
As hand to write her praise did fear and faint,  
And heart did bleed to think me Beauty's thrall.  
But eye more hardy than the hand or heart,  
Did glory in her eyes reflecting light:  
And yet that light did breed my endless smart.  
And yet mine eyes nill leave there former sight,  
But gazing pine, which eye, hand, heart doth try,  
And what I love, is but hand, heart, and eye.   

Sonnet. 51.  
EAch tree did boast the wished spring times pride,  
when solitary in the vale of love:  
I hide myself so from the world to hide,  
The uncouth passions which my heart did prove.  
No tree whose branches did not bravely spring,  
No branch whereon a fine bird did not sit:  
No bird but did her shrill notes sweetly sing,  
No song but did contain a lovely dit.  
Trees, branches, birds, and songs were framed fair,  
Fit to allure frail mind to careless ease:  
But careful was my thoughts yet in despair,  
I dwelled for brittle hope me cannot please.  
For when I view my loves fair eyes reflecting,  
I entertain despair, vain hope rejecting.   

Sonnet. 52.  
EAch Creature joys Apollo's happy sight,  
And feed themselves with his fair beams reflecting  
Night wandering travelers at Cinihias' sight,  
Clear up their cloudy thoughts fond fere rejecting  
But dark disdain eclipsed hath my sun,  
Whose shining beams my wandering thought were guiding,  
For want whereof my little world is done  
That I uneath can stay my mind from sliding,  
O happy birds that at your pleasure may:  
Behold the glorious light of sols a rays,  
Most wretched I borne in some dismal day:  
That cannot see the beams my sun displays,  
My glorious sun in whom all virtue shrouds  
That light the world but shines to me in clouds   

Sonnet. 53.  
IN Clowns she shines and so obscurely shineth,  
That like a mastless ship o● seas I wander:  
For want of her to guide my heart that pineth,  
Yet can I not entreat ne yet command her,  
So am I tied in Labyrinths of fancy,  
In dark and obscure Labyrinths of love:  
That every one may plain behold that can see,  
How I am fettered and what pains I prove.  
The Lamp whose light should lead my ship about,  
Is placed upon my Mistress heavenly face:  
Her hand doth hold the clew must lead me out,  
And free my heart from thraldom's loathed place.  
But clean to lead me out or Lamp to light me,  
She scornfully denied the more to spite me.   

Sonnet. 54.  
BLame me not dear love though I talk at random,  
Terming thee scornful, proud, unkind, disdainful  
Since all I do cannot my woes abandon,  
Or rid me of the yoke I feel so painful.  
If I do paint thy pride or want of pity,  
Consider likewise how I blaze thy beauty:  
Enforced to the first in mournful ditty,  
Constrained to the last by servile duty:  
And take thou no offence if I misdeemed,  
Thy beauty's glory quencheth thy pride's blemish:  
Better it is of all to be esteemed,  
Fair and too proud than not fair and too squeamish.  
And seeing thou must scorn and 'tis aprooved,  
Scorn to be ruthless since thou art beloved.   

Sonnet. 55.  
MY love more bright than Cinthia's horned head,  
That spreads her wings to beautify the heavens:  
When Titan coucheth in his purple bed,  
Thou livest by Titan and injoyest his beams.  
She flies when he gins to run his race,  
And hides her head his beauty stains her brightness:  
Thou stayest thy beauty yields the sun no place,  
For thou excelst his beams in glories sweetness.  
She hath eclipse, thou never dost eclipse,  
She sometimes wanes thy glory still doth wax:  
None but Endymyon hangeth at her lips,  
Thy beauty burns the world as fire doth flax.  
She shines by months, thou hours, months, and years,  
Oh th' 〈…〉 beauty should enforce such tears.   

Sonnet. 56.  
WEre words dissolved to sighs, sighs into tears,  
●●d every tear to torments of the mind:  
The minds distress into those deadly fears,  
That find more death than death itself can find.  
Were all the woes of all the world in one,  
Sorrow and death set down in all their pride:  
Yet were they insufficient to bemoan,  
The restless horrors that my heart doth hide.  
where black despair doth feed on every thought,  
And deep despair is cause of endless grief:  
where every sense with sorrows overwrought,  
lives but in death despairing of relief.  
whilst thus my heart with loves plague torn asunder,  
May of the world be called the woeful wonder.   

Sonnet. LVII.  
THe hunted Hart sometime doth leave the Hound,  
My heart alas is never out of chase:  
The live-hounds life sometime is yet unbound,  
My bands are hopeless of so high a grace.  
For nature's sickness sometimes may have ease,  
Fortune though fickle sometime is a friend:  
The minds affliction patience may appease,  
And death is cause that many torments end.  
Yet I am sick, but she that should restore me,  
Withholds the sacred balm that would recute me:  
And fortune eke (though many eyes deplore me)  
Nill lend such chance that might to joy procure me.  
Patience wants power to appease my weeping,  
And death denies what I have long been seeking.   

Sonnet. LVIII.  
WHen as I mark the joy of every wight,  
How in their minds deep throbbing sorrow ceaseth  
And by what means they nourish their delight,  
Their sweet delight my pain the more increaseth.  
For as the Dear that sees his fellow feed,  
Amid the lusty heard, himself sore bruised:  
O● as the bird that feels herself to bleed,  
A●d lies aloof of all her feres refused.  
So have I found and now too dearly try,  
That pleasure doubleth pain and bliss annoy:  
Yet still I twit myself of Surcuidrie,  
As one that am unworthy to enjoy,  
The lasting fruit of such a heavenly love,  
For whom these endless sorrows I approve.   

Sonnet. LIX.  
OFt have I railed against love many ways,  
But pardon love I honour now thy power:  
For were my Palace Greece Pyramids,  
Cupid should there erect a stately bower.  
And in my Palace sing his sugared songs,  
And Venus' Doves myself will finely feed:  
And nurse her sparrows and her milk white Swans.  
Yea, in my restless bosom should they breed.  
And thou dear Lady sacred and divine,  
Shalt have thy place within my heart assigned:  
Thy picture yea thy fiery darting eyen,  
I'll carry painted in my grieved mind.  
The chiefest colours shall be scarlet blood,  
Which Cupid pricketh from my woeful heart:  
And tears commixed shall further forth my good,  
To paint thy glories cording their desert.  
I now am changed from what I wont to be,  
Cupid is God, And there is none but he.   

Sonnet. LX.  
WHo taught thee first to sigh A lass sweet heart? love.  
Who taught thy tongue to marshal words of plaint? love.  
Who filled thine eyes with tears of bitter smart? love.  
Who gave thee grief and made thy joys so faint? love.  
Who first did paint with colours pale thy face? love.  
Who first did break thy sleeps of quiet rest? love.  
Who forced thee unto wanton love give place? love.  
Who thralled thy thoughts in fancy so distressed? love.  
Who made thee bide both constant firm and sure. love.  
Who made thee scorn the world and love thy friend? love.  
Who made thy mind with patience pains endure? love.  
Who made thee settle steadfast to the end. love.  
Then love thy choice though love be never gained,  
Still live in love, despair not though disdained.   
FINIS.  
T. W.