 | Parthenophil and Parthenophe |  |
ELEGIE VI.
Behold these teares my loues true tribute payment,These plaintiffe Elegies my greefes bewrayers,
Acoutred as is meete in mournefull rayment:
My red-swolne eyne, which were mine harts betrayers.
And yet my rebell eye excuse prepaires
That he was neuer worker of my wayment,
Plaining my thoughtes, that my confusion they ment:
VVhich thoughtes with sighes (for incense) make dumme prayers,
T'appease the furies in my martyr'd brest,
VVhich witnesse my true loues, in long lament,
And with what agonies I am possest.
Ah me poore man, where shall I finde some rest!
Not in thine eyes with promise fearefull hope,
Thine hart hath vow'd I shall be still distrest,
To rest within thine hart there is no scope.
All other places, made for bodies ease
As bed, field, forrest, and a quiet chamber,
There euer am I with sad cares opprest,
Each pleasaunt spectacle doth me displease,
Greefe, and dispaire so sore on me did sease
That day with tediousnesse doth me molest
And (Phoebe carryed in her coach of Amber)
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Thus dayes from nightes my charg'd hart doth not know,
Nor nightes from dayes, all howers to sorrowes goe:
Then punish fancie, cause of thy disease.
| Parthenophil and Parthenophe | |