Diana of George of Montemayor | ||
A Sonnet.
Mine eies, once haue I seene you more contented,And my poore hart, more ioyfull I haue knowne thee:
Woe to the cause, whose greefes haue ouer growne thee,
15
But as this cruell fortune hath inuented
(Sweete ioy) to roote thee vp, where she had sowen thee,
So now (Seluagia) she hath ouerthrowen thee:
Thy pleasures scarce begun, she hath tormented.
Let me to time or to his changing take me,
Let me with motions out of order leade me,
Then I shall see how free my hart is to me.
Then will I trust in hopes that not forsake me,
When I haue staide her wheeles that ouertread me,
And beaten downe the fates that doe vndoe me.
Diana of George of Montemayor | ||