The Poems of William Smith Edited by Lawrence A. Sasek |
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| 34. | SONNET 34.
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 | The Poems of William Smith |  |
71
SONNET 34.
[The birde of Thrace which doth bewaile hir rape]
The birde of Thrace which doth bewaile hir rape,And murthred Itis eaten by his sire,
When she hir woes in dolefull tunes doth shape,
She sets hir brest against a thornie brire,
Because care-charmer sleepe should not disturbe
The tragicke tale which to the night she tels,
She doth hir rest and quietnes thus curbe
Amongst the groues where secret silence dwels.
Euen so I wake, and waking waile all night,
Chloris vnkindnes slumbers doth expell,
I need not thornes sweete sleepe to put to flight,
Hir crueltie my golden rest doth quell:
That day and night to me are alwaies one,
Consum'd in woe, in teares, in sighes and mone.
| The Poems of William Smith | |