Diella | ||
Sonnet XXI.
[As winters rage young plants vnkindly spilleth]
As winters rage young plants vnkindly spilleth,as haile greene Corne, and lightning floures perish,
So mans decay, is loue, whose hart it killeth.
if in his soule hee carefully it cherrish;
O how alluringly hee offers grace,,
and breathes newe hope of lyfe into our thought,
VVith cheerefull, pleasant, (yet deceitfull) face
he creepes, & fawnes, till in his net w'are caught,
Then, when he sees vs Captiues by him led,
and sees vs prostrate humbly crauing helpe,
So feirce a Lyon Lybia neuer bred,
nor Adders sting, nor any Tigresse whelpe:
Oh blest be they that neuer felt his force,
Loue hath nor pittie, mercy, nor remorse.
Diella | ||