 | Fidessa |  |
SONNET. XXXIII.
[He that would faine Fidessaes image see]
He that would faine Fidessaes image see,My face of force must be his looking glasse:
There is she portraide and her crueltie,
Which as a wonder through the world must passe.
But were I dead, she would not be betraide:
It's I that gainst my will shall make it knowne,
Her crueltie by me must be bewraide,
Or I must hide my head, and liue alone.
Ile plucke my siluer haires from out my head,
And wash away the wrinkles of my face:
Closely immur'd I'le liue as I were dead,
Before she suffer but the least disgrace.
How can I hide that is alreadie knowne?
I haue been seene, and haue no face but one.
| Fidessa | |