The Works in Verse and Prose of Nicholas Breton For the First Time Collected and Edited: With Memorial-Introduction, Notes and Illustrations, Glossarial Index, Facsimilies, &c. By the Rev. Alexander B. Grosart. In Two Volumes |
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 | The Works in Verse and Prose of Nicholas Breton |  |
A Louers complaint.
The fire to see my wrongs for anger burneth,
The aire in raine for mine affection weepeth,
The sea to ebbe for griefe his flowing turneth
The earth with pittie dul the centre keepeth,
Fame is with wonder blazed,
Time runnes away for sorrow,
Place standeth still amazed,
To see my nights of euill which haue no morrow.
Alas, onely she no pitty taketh
To see my miseries, but chast and cruel,
My fall her glorie maketh
Yet still her eyes giues to my flames their fuel.
The aire in raine for mine affection weepeth,
The sea to ebbe for griefe his flowing turneth
The earth with pittie dul the centre keepeth,
Fame is with wonder blazed,
Time runnes away for sorrow,
Place standeth still amazed,
To see my nights of euill which haue no morrow.
Alas, onely she no pitty taketh
To see my miseries, but chast and cruel,
My fall her glorie maketh
Yet still her eyes giues to my flames their fuel.
Fire burne me quick, till sence of burning leaue,
Ayre let me drawe my breath no more in anguish,
Sea drowne me in thee, of teadious life bereaue me,
Earth take this earth, wherein these spirits languish:
Fame same I was not borne,
Time draw my dismall hower,
Place see my graue vp-torne,
Fire, Aire, sea, earth, Fame, time, place, shew your power:
Alas, from all their helps I am exiled,
For hers am I, and death feares her displeasure:
Oh death thou art beguiled,
Though I be hers she makes of me no treasure.
Ayre let me drawe my breath no more in anguish,
7
Earth take this earth, wherein these spirits languish:
Fame same I was not borne,
Time draw my dismall hower,
Place see my graue vp-torne,
Fire, Aire, sea, earth, Fame, time, place, shew your power:
Alas, from all their helps I am exiled,
For hers am I, and death feares her displeasure:
Oh death thou art beguiled,
Though I be hers she makes of me no treasure.
Finis.
| The Works in Verse and Prose of Nicholas Breton | |