 | Sinetes (1597) |  |
PASSION, XXXIIII.
[O Heau'ns recorde the somme of my request]
O Heau'ns recorde the somme of my request,
Confesse I seeke nothing but what is iust,
Some ease of that which doth my minde molest,
Eare all my hope be buried in the dust:
Ye angrie stars let my submission pay,
The ransome of my captiue hartes decay.
Confesse I seeke nothing but what is iust,
Some ease of that which doth my minde molest,
Eare all my hope be buried in the dust:
Ye angrie stars let my submission pay,
The ransome of my captiue hartes decay.
Tis not obscure that I long pennance bore,
To purge the guilt of my fore-passed crime,
Let tribute paide, make euen with the score,
Which in Fates booke care crost of auntient time:
Then doubtles I some comfort shall obtaine,
Though Fortune doe my sacrifice disdaine.
To purge the guilt of my fore-passed crime,
Let tribute paide, make euen with the score,
Which in Fates booke care crost of auntient time:
Then doubtles I some comfort shall obtaine,
Though Fortune doe my sacrifice disdaine.
Yet let me yeild, it booteth not to striue,
Of force I must giue place to higher powers,
Too weake I am, for such as me corriue,
Without I might raine downe some Golden showers:
So Danae no doubt I might enioye,
To beare a sonne his Graund-sier to destroy.
Of force I must giue place to higher powers,
Too weake I am, for such as me corriue,
Without I might raine downe some Golden showers:
So Danae no doubt I might enioye,
To beare a sonne his Graund-sier to destroy.
Haue I forgot my Ladies yet to moue,
Whose sole applause may pleade their sheapheards woe,
Tis you alone that shall my deedes approue,
For like the weedes, that fairest flowers out-grow,
My cares ou'r-spread the relique of my ioye,
And fatall feare did fadeing hope destroye.
Whose sole applause may pleade their sheapheards woe,
Tis you alone that shall my deedes approue,
For like the weedes, that fairest flowers out-grow,
My cares ou'r-spread the relique of my ioye,
And fatall feare did fadeing hope destroye.
| Sinetes (1597) | |