 | Parthenophil and Parthenophe |  |
SONNET LXXX.
[Long wish't for death, sent by my mistresse doome]
Long wish't for death, sent by my mistresse doomeHold take thy prisoner full resolu'd to dye,
But first as cheefe, and in the highest roome
My soule to heauen I doe bequeath on hye,
Now readie to be seuer'd from thy loue:
My sighes to ayer, to Christall springes my teares,
My sad complaintes (which thee could neuer moue)
To mountaines desolate, and deafe, my feares
To Lambes beset with Lyons, my dispare
To night, and irksome dungeons full of dread:
53
My tormentes which thy cruelties haue bredde
In heauēs, clouds, springs hard mountaines, lambes, & night.
Here once vnited, then disseuer'd quite.
| Parthenophil and Parthenophe | |