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Licia, or Poemes of Loue

In Honour of the admirable and singular vertues of his Lady, to the imitation of the best Latin Poets, and others. Whereunto is added the Rising to the Crowne of Richard the third [by Giles Fletcher]
Fletcher, Giles (1549?-1611)
  
[epigraph]
  
[dedication]

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[section]
  
TO LICIA THE WISE, KINDE, Vertuous, and fayre.
 I. 
Sonnet. I.
 II. 
Sonnet. II.
 III. 
Sonnet. III.
 IIII. 
Sonet. IIII.
 V. 
Sonnet. V.
 VI. 
Sonnet. VI.
 VII. 
Sonnet. VII.
 VIII. 
Sonet. VIII.
 IX. 
Sonnet. IX.
 X. 
Sonnet. X.
 XI. 
Sonnet. XI.
 XIII. 
Sonnet. XIII.
 XIII. 
Sonnet. XIII.
 XIIII. 
Sonnet. XIIII.
 XV. 
Sonnet. XV.
 XVI. 
Sonnet. XVI.
 XVII. 
Sonnet. XVII.
 XVIII. 
Sonnet. XVIII.
 XIX. 
Sonnet. XIX.
 XX. 
Sonnet. XX.
 XXI. 
Sonnet. XXI.
 XXII. 
Sonnet. XXII
 XXIII. 
Sonnet. XXIII.
 XXIIII. 
Sonnet. XXIIII.
 XXV. 
Sonnet. XXV.
 XXVI. 
Sonnet. XXVI.
 XXVII. 
Sonnet. XXVII.
 XXVIII. 
Sonnet. XXVIII.
 XXIX. 
Sonnet. XXIX.
 XXI. 
Sonnet. XXI.
 XXXI. 
Sonnet. XXXI.
 XXXII. 
Sonnet XXXII.
 XXXIII. 
Sonnet. XXXIII.
 XXXIIII. 
Sonnet. XXXIIII.
 XXXV. 
Sonnet. XXXV.
 XXXVI. 
Sonnet. XXXVI.
 XXXVIII. 
Sonnet. XXXVIII.
 XXXVIII. 
Sonnet. XXXVIII.
 XXXIX. 
Sonnet. XXXIX.
 XL. 
Sonnet. XL.
  
A SONNET MADE VPON THE TWO Twinnes, daughters of the Ladie Mollineux, both passing like, and exceeding faire.
 XLI. 
Sonnet. XLI.
 XLII. 
Sonnet. XLII.
 XLIII. 
Sonnet. XLIII.
 XLIIII. 
Sonnet. XLIIII.
 XLV. 
Sonnet. XLV.
 XLVI. 
Sonnet. XLVI.
 XLVII. 
Sonnet XLVII.
 XLVIII. 
Sonnet. XLVIII.
 XLIX. 
Sonnet. XLIX.
 L. 
Sonnet. L.
 LI. 
Sonnet. LI.
 LII. 
Sonnet. LII.
  
AN ODE.
  
A dialogue betwixt two: Sea-nymphes, DORIS and GALATEA, concerning Polyphemus, briefely translated out of Lucian.
  
A LOVERS MAZE.
  
AN ELEGIE.
  
ELEGIE. II.
  
ELEGIE. III.
  
THE RISING TO THE CROWNE of RICHARD the third.

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24

Sonnet. XXIII.

[My love was maskt, and armed with a fanne]

My love was maskt, and armed with a fanne,
To see the Sunne so carelesse of his light,
Which stood and gaz'd, and gazing, waxed wanne,
To see a starre, himselfe that was more bright.
Some did surmize, she hidde her from the sunne:
Of whome, in pride, she scorn'd for to be kist:
Or fear'd the harme, by him to others done,
But these the reason of this woonder mist,
Nor durst the Sunne, if that her face were bare,
In greatest pride, presume to take a kisse:
But she more kinde, did shew she had more care,
Then with her eyes, eclypse him of his blisse.
Vnmaske you (sweet) and spare not, dimme the sunne:
Your light's ynough, although that his were done.
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