The tears of Fancie or, Loue Disdained |
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Sonnet. VIII.
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The tears of Fancie | ||
Sonnet. VIII.
[O what a life is it that Louers ioy]
O what a life is it that Louers ioy,VVherein both paine and pleasure shrouded is:
Both heauenly pleasures and eke hells annoy,
Hells fowle annoyance and eke heauenly blisse.
VVherein vaine hope doth feede the Louers hart,
And brittle ioy sustaine a pining thought:
VVhen blacke dispaire renewes a Louers smart,
And quite extirps what first content had wrought.
VVhere faire resemblance eke the mind allureth,
To wanton lewd lust giuing pleasure scope:
And late repentance endles paines procureth,
But none of these afflict me saue vaine hope.
And sad dispaire, dispaire and hope perplexing,
Vaine hope my hart, dispaire my fancie vexing.
The tears of Fancie | ||