The Poetical Works of William Drummond of Hawthornden With "A Cypresse Grove": Edited by L. E. Kastner |
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 | The Poetical Works of William Drummond of Hawthornden |  |
5
Son. [iv]
[Faire is my Yoke, though grieuous bee my Paines]
Faire is my Yoke, though grieuous bee my Paines,Sweet are my Wounds, although they deeply smart,
My Bit is Gold, though shortned bee the Raines,
My Bondage braue, though I may not depart:
Although I burne, the Fire which doth impart
Those Flames, so sweet reuiuing Force containes,
That (like Arabias Bird) my wasted Heart
Made quicke by Death, more liuely still remaines.
I joye, though oft my waking Eyes spend Teares,
I neuer want Delight, euen when I grone,
Best companied when most I am alone,
A Heauen of Hopes I haue midst Hells of Feares:
Thus euery Way Contentment strange I finde,
But most in Her rare Beautie, my rare Minde.
| The Poetical Works of William Drummond of Hawthornden | |