University of Virginia Library

A Solemne Sonnet.

Fortvne hath writ characters on my heart
As full of crosses as the skinne can holde,
Which tell of torments, tearing euery part,
While Death and Sorrowe do my fate vnfolde.
Patience sits leaning like a pining soule,
That had no heart to thinke of Hopes reliefe;
While fruitlesse cares discomfort doe enroule
Within the ground of neuer ending griefe.
Thoughts flie about, as all in feare confounded;
Reason growne mad, with too much mal content;
Loue, passion-rent, to see his patience wounded,
With dreadfull terrors of Despaires intent.
While Care concludes, in comforts overthrowne,
Whē Death can speak, my passiōs shal be showne.