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 | |