 | The Poems and Sonnets of Henry Constable |  |
xxix
[Falsly doth envie of your praises blame]
Falsly doth envie of your praises blame
My tongue, my pen, my hart, of flattery;
Because I said there was no sunne but thee,
It call'd my tongue the partiall trumpe of Fame;
My tongue, my pen, my hart, of flattery;
Because I said there was no sunne but thee,
It call'd my tongue the partiall trumpe of Fame;
And saith my pen hath flattered thy name,
Because my pen did to my tongue agree;
And that my hart must needs a flattrer bee,
Which taught both tongue and pen to say the same.
Because my pen did to my tongue agree;
And that my hart must needs a flattrer bee,
Which taught both tongue and pen to say the same.
No, no, I flatter not, when thee I call
The sunne, sith that the sunne was never such;
But when the sunne thee I compar'd withall
Doubtles the sunne I flattered too much.
Witnes mine eyes, I say the trueth in this:
They have seene thee, and know that so it is.
The sunne, sith that the sunne was never such;
But when the sunne thee I compar'd withall
Doubtles the sunne I flattered too much.
Witnes mine eyes, I say the trueth in this:
They have seene thee, and know that so it is.
| The Poems and Sonnets of Henry Constable | |