 | Diana of George of Montemayor |  |
314
[If that a small occasion had the power]
If
that a small occasion had the power,
To make thee leese thy rosie hew and colour,
Diana, say, how fals it out this hower,
That all my woes to pitie make thee duller?
To make thee leese thy rosie hew and colour,
Diana, say, how fals it out this hower,
That all my woes to pitie make thee duller?
Hath now a little peece of paper made thee
So milde, and gentle in so short a morrow,
And cannot yet my greatest loue perswade thee,
To make thee take compassion of my sorrow?
So milde, and gentle in so short a morrow,
And cannot yet my greatest loue perswade thee,
To make thee take compassion of my sorrow?
How of my selfe am I my selfe ashamed,
That thou shouldst reckon of so short a writing,
Which cannot iudge, nor vnderstand thy graces?
And yet thou wilt not bend thee to requiting
Of that, that's written in my hart inflamed,
And which hath alwaies suffred thy disgraces.
That thou shouldst reckon of so short a writing,
Which cannot iudge, nor vnderstand thy graces?
And yet thou wilt not bend thee to requiting
Of that, that's written in my hart inflamed,
And which hath alwaies suffred thy disgraces.
| Diana of George of Montemayor | |