 | Parthenophil and Parthenophe |  |
SONNET X.
[Yet giue me leaue (since all my ioyes be perisht)]
Yet giue me leaue (since all my ioyes be perisht)Hartlesse to moane, for my poore harts departire.
Nor should I mourne for him if he were cherisht,
Ah no! she keepes him like a slauish martyre:
Ah me! since mercylesse she made that chartyre,
Sealed with waxe of stedfast continence,
Sign'd with those hands which neuer can vnwrite it,
Writ with that penne, which by preheminence
To sure confirmes whatseuer was inditit:
What skilles to weare thy gyrdle or thy gartyre,
When other armes shall thy small wast imbrace?
How great a wast, of mynde and bodies weale
Now meltes my soule! I to thine eyes appeale,
If they thy tyrant champions owe me grace.
| Parthenophil and Parthenophe | |