 | The Poems and Sonnets of Henry Constable |  |
lxvii
[Deare! though from me youre gratiouse lookes depart]
Deare! though from me youre gratiouse lookes depart,
And of that comfort doe my selfe bereave,
Which both I did deserve and did receave;
Triumph not overmuch in this my smarte.
And of that comfort doe my selfe bereave,
Which both I did deserve and did receave;
Triumph not overmuch in this my smarte.
Nay, rather they which now enjoy thy heart
For feare just cause of mourning should conceave,
Least thow inconstant shouldst theyre trust deceave
Which like unto the weather changing art.
For feare just cause of mourning should conceave,
Least thow inconstant shouldst theyre trust deceave
Which like unto the weather changing art.
For in foule weather byrds sing often will
In hope of fayre, and in fayre tyme will cease,
For feare fayre tyme should not continue still;
So they may mourne which have thy heart possest
For feare of change, and hope of change may ease
Theyre hearts whome griefe of change doth now molest.
In hope of fayre, and in fayre tyme will cease,
For feare fayre tyme should not continue still;
So they may mourne which have thy heart possest
For feare of change, and hope of change may ease
Theyre hearts whome griefe of change doth now molest.
| The Poems and Sonnets of Henry Constable | |