 | Poems (1983) |  |
[Fierce love, alas yett lett mee rest]
[1]
Fierce love, alas yett lett mee rest,Beeholde my boyling brest:
Lett mee butt slumber, if nott sleepe
Continually to weepe
Is too great a smart
To a hart
Transform'd like Niobé to watry powers
Telling howers
In drops of my misfortunes arte;
2
Cruell, alas, why doe thos eyesRule of the heavenly skies
Joye in my ruin? My poore streames
Flumes can nott coole your beames
For loves sacred fire
Must aspire
Transcendant to the highest powers
Telling howers
In flames of my consuming fire,
3
The Firmament may mee imbraceTher wanderers may finde place
Transform'd by love into a space
Borowing of lovers trace
Wher continuall faire
Will tell ayre
203
Bred in ire
May yett to evenings faire aspire,
4
Butt dull earth I see you contendNott willing I assend,
Give mee then fruicts of plenty heere
True increase of beauties cheere,
Why doe you create
Such a bate
To singe all harts, by such a fire
And intire
Consuming us to our last fate?
| Poems (1983) | |