The tears of Fancie or, Loue Disdained |
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Sonnet. VII.
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| LVII. |
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| LX. |
 | The tears of Fancie |  |
Sonnet. VII.
[Now Loue triumphed hauing got the day]
Now Loue triumphed hauing got the day,Proudly insulting, tyrannizing still:
As Hawke that ceazeth on the yeelding pray,
So am I made the scorne of Victors will.
Now eies with teares, now hart with sorrow fraught,
Hart sorrowes at my watry teares lamenting:
Eyes shed salt teares to see harts pining thought,
And both that then loue scornd are now repenting.
But all in vaine too late I pleade repentance,
For teares in eies and sighs in hart must weeld me:
The feathered boy hath doomd my fatall sentence,
That I to tyrannizing Loue must yeeld me.
And bow my necke erst subiect to no yoke,
To Loues false lure (such force hath beauties stroke.
| The tears of Fancie | |