Parthenophil and Parthenophe Sonnettes, Madrigals, Elegies and Odes [by Barnabe Barnes] |
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MADRIGALL 11.
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MADRIGALL 11.
[Thine eyes mine heauen which harbour louely rest]
Thine eyes mine heauen which harbour louely rest,And with their beames all creatures cheare
Stoule from mine eyes there cleare,
And made mine eyes dimme myrrouldes of vnrest.
And from her lillye forhead smooth, and plaine,
My front his withered forrowes tooke,
And through her grace, his grace forsooke:
From soft cheekes rosie redde,
My cheekes their leanesse, and this pallid staine.
The golden penne of natures booke
(For her tong that taske vndertooke)
Which to the graces secretorie ledde,
And sweetest muses with sweet musicke fedde,
Inforc'd my muse in tragique tunes to sing:
But from her harts hard frozen string,
Mine hart his tendernesse, and heare possest.
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