The Poems and Sonnets of Henry Constable | ||
lxxv
[If true love might true love's reward obtaine]
If true love might true love's reward obtaine,
Dumbe wonder onely might speake of my joy;
But too much worth hath made thee too much coy,
And told me long agoe I sigh'd in vaine.
Dumbe wonder onely might speake of my joy;
But too much worth hath made thee too much coy,
And told me long agoe I sigh'd in vaine.
Not then vaine hope of undeserved gaine
Hath made me paint in verses mine annoy,
But for thy pleasure, that thou might'st enjoy
Thy beauty's praise, in glasses of my paine.
Hath made me paint in verses mine annoy,
But for thy pleasure, that thou might'st enjoy
Thy beauty's praise, in glasses of my paine.
See then thy selfe (though me thou wilt not heare),
By looking on my verse: for paine in verse,
Love doth in paine, beautie in love, appeare.
So, if thou wouldst my verses' meaning see,
Expound them thus, when I my love rehearse:
None loves like him; that is, None faire like mee.
By looking on my verse: for paine in verse,
Love doth in paine, beautie in love, appeare.
So, if thou wouldst my verses' meaning see,
Expound them thus, when I my love rehearse:
None loves like him; that is, None faire like mee.
The Poems and Sonnets of Henry Constable | ||