University of Virginia Library


61

SONNET 24.

[Though they augmenters of my thraldome be]

Though they augmenters of my thraldome be,
For hir I liue and hir I loue and none els:
O then faire eies looke mildly vpon me,
Who poore despisde, forlorne must liue alone els,
And like Amintas haunt the desart cels
(And monelesse there breath out thy crueltie)
Where none but care and Melancholy dwels.
I for reuenge to Nemesis will crie;
If that will not preuaile my wandring ghoste,
Which breathles heere this loue scorcht trunck shall leaue,
Shall vnto thee with tragicke tidings poste,
How thy disdaine did life from soule bereaue.
Then all too late my death thou wilt repent,
When murthers guilt thy conscience shall torment.