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Parthenophil and Parthenophe

Sonnettes, Madrigals, Elegies and Odes [by Barnabe Barnes]

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ELEGIE XXI.
 
 
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ELEGIE XXI.

[Happie depart with speede, then me more fortunate euer]

Happie depart with speede, then me more fortunate euer
Poore letter go thy wayes, vnto my sweet Ladyes hands:
She shall looke on thee, and then with her bewtifull eyes blesse:
Smiling eyes (perhaps thee to delight with a glaunce)
She shall cast on a lyne (if a lyne there pleaseth her humour)
But if a lyne displease, then shall apeare in a frowne,
How much she dislikes thy loues, and saucie salutings:
O my lifes sweet light, know that a frowne of thine eye
Can transpearce to my soule more swift then a Parthian arrow,
And more deepely wound then any launce, or a speare:
But thy sweet smiles can procure such contrary mot'ions,
Which can alone that heale, wounded afore by thine eyes:
Like to the launces rust which heal'de whome warlike Achilles
(With right hand valiant) doughtilye wounded afore.
Not vnlike to the men, whose greefe the Scorpion helpeth
(Whom he before did sting) ready to dye thorow paine:
Thou that bewtie procures to be thy chastities hand mayde,
With vertues regiment glorious ordred alone:
Thou that those smooth browes, like plates of Iuory plained
(When any looke on them) canst make apeare like a cloude:
Thou that those cleare eyes (whose light surpasseth a stars light,
Canst make loues flames shoote, with cruel anger abroad:
Thou that those fayre cheekes (when a man thy bewtie beholdeth)
Deepely to wound canst make, sweetely to blush like a rose.
Make thy browes (to delight mine hart) smooth shadow thy cleare eyes:
Whose smile is to my soule like to the sunne frō a cloude
When he shines to the world in most pride after a tempest,
And with his heate prouokes all the delightes of the ground.

96

Graunt me sweet Lady this, this graunt, kinde pittie requesteth
Teares and sighes make asuite, pittie me, pittie my suite:
Thus to thy sweet graces will I leaue my drcerye bewaylings,
And to thy gracious hart; I recomend my lamentes:
Thrise blessed go thy way, to my deare go thrise speedie letter,
And for me kisse them, since I may not kisse her hands.