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The Countesse of Mountgomeries Urania

Written by the right honorable the Lady Mary Wroath
Wroth, Mary (ca. 1586-ca. 1640)

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Urania
  
[Vnseene, vnknowne, I here alone complaine]
  
[Here all alone in silence might I mourne]
  
[Heart drops distilling like a new cut-vine]
  
[Adieu sweet Sun]
  
[Beare part with me most straight and pleasant Tree]
  
[My thoughts thou hast supported without rest]
  
[Drowne me not you cruell teares]
  
[The Sunne hath no long iourney now to goe]
  
[Sweete solitarines, ioy to those hearts]
  
[Deare Loue, alas, how haue I wronged thee]
  
[Stay mine eyes, these floods of teares]
  
[Deare, how doe thy winning eyes]
  
[Loue what art thou? A vaine thought]
  
[Who can blame me if I loue?]
  
[Pray thee Diana tell mee, is it ill]
  
[Teares some times flow from mirth, as well as sorrow]
  
[How doe I finde my soules extreamest anguish]
  
[Gone is my ioy, while here I mourne]
  
[When I with trembling aske if you loue still]
  
[You powers diuine of loue-commanding eyes]
  
[You pure and holy fire]
  
[Loue peruse me, seeke, and finde]
  
[From victory in loue I now am come]
  
[I who doe feele the highest part of griefe]
  
[Blame me not dearest, though grieued for your sake]
  
[Loue among the clouds did houer]
  
[Infernall Spirits listen to my moanes]
  
[The ioy yon say the Heauens in motion trie]
  
[As these drops fall: so Hope drops now on me]
  
[You, who ending neuer saw]
  
[Cruell Remembrance alas now be still]
  
[Vnquiet griefe, search further in my heart]
  
[Losse my molester at last patient be]
  
[O that I might but now as senselesse bee]
  
[Deare, though vnconstant, these I send to you]
  
[Why doe you so much wish for raine, when I]
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Lindamira's Complaint.
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[From a long way, and Pilgrimage for Loue]
  
[Did I boast of liberty?]
  
[Loue farewell I now discouer]
  
[Faithfull louers keepe from hence]
  
[Egypts Pyramid's inclose their Kings]
  
[If a cleere fountaine still keeping a sad course]
  
[That which to some their wishes ends present]
  
[Fond aged man, why doe you on me gaze]
  
[A Sheephard who no care did take.]
  
[Rise, rise from sluggishnes, fly fast my Deere]
  
[Haue I lost my liberty]
  
[Loue growne proud with victory]
  
[This no wonder's of much waight]
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PAMPHILIA, TO AMPHILANTHVS.
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Sonnet.
  
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A Crowne of Sonnets dedicated to Love.
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[You pure and holy fire]

You pure and holy fire
Which kindly now will not aspire
To hot performance of your Nature, turne
Crosse to your selfe and neuer burne
These Reliques of a blessed hand,
Ioynd with mutuall holy band
Of loue and deare desire.
Blame me not dearest lines,
That with loues flames your blacknesse twines,
My heart more mourning doth for you expresse,
But griefe for sorrow is no lesse.
Deepest groanes can couer, not change woe,
Hearts the tombe, keepes in the showe,
Which worth from ill refines.
Alas yet as you burne,
My pitie smarts, and groanes to turne
Your paines away, and yet you must consume
Content in me, must beare no plume,
Dust-like Dispaire may with me liue,
Yet shall your memory out-driue
These paines wherein I mourne.
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You reliques of pure loue
To sacred keepe with me remooue,
Purg'd by this fire from harme, and iealous feare,
To liue with me both chast and cleare:
The true preserueresse of pure truths,
Who to your graue giues a youth
In faith to liue and mooue.
Famous body's still in flames,
Did anciently preserue their names,
Vnto this funerall nobly you are come,
Honour giuing you this tombe.
Teares and my loue performe your rights,
To which constancie beares lights
To burne, and keepe from blame.
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