The English and Latin Poems of Sir Robert Ayton Edited by Charles B. Gullans |
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The English and Latin Poems of Sir Robert Ayton | ||
155
12. [An Exhortation]
If high Excess of Irrelenting smart
Inforce not words to fayle, and thoughts to faint,
My love would now convince both tongue and heart
To say farewell vnto my sweetest Saint,
But while affection would my woes reveale
And say vnto my sweetest heart farewell,
My senses are soe suffocat'd with care
They sigh, they grone, then sayes nothing but faire.
Inforce not words to fayle, and thoughts to faint,
My love would now convince both tongue and heart
To say farewell vnto my sweetest Saint,
But while affection would my woes reveale
And say vnto my sweetest heart farewell,
My senses are soe suffocat'd with care
They sigh, they grone, then sayes nothing but faire.
Then, fairest faire, read in my sighes and teares
The secreete anguish of they dyeing slave,
Who for the love vnto thy worth he beares
Hath consecrat'd his soule vnto the Grave,
And now is forc'd from thy dissdaines to goe
Where death may End his never ending woe,
Yet swearing still by all the lights above
Ten thousands deaths shall never end his love.
The secreete anguish of they dyeing slave,
Who for the love vnto thy worth he beares
Hath consecrat'd his soule vnto the Grave,
And now is forc'd from thy dissdaines to goe
Where death may End his never ending woe,
Yet swearing still by all the lights above
Ten thousands deaths shall never end his love.
And thus resolv'd I only begg of the,
Amidds my sadd Exile, this poore releife,
That if thou cannot thinke with love on mee,
Thou would with pitty pause vpon my grieffe,
Or if perhapps this little seeme too much
As, ah, I feare thy rigour shall be such
That, when some freind my Name to minde shall call,
Thou'll only sigh and wish mee well, that's all.
Amidds my sadd Exile, this poore releife,
That if thou cannot thinke with love on mee,
Thou would with pitty pause vpon my grieffe,
Or if perhapps this little seeme too much
As, ah, I feare thy rigour shall be such
That, when some freind my Name to minde shall call,
Thou'll only sigh and wish mee well, that's all.
The English and Latin Poems of Sir Robert Ayton | ||