Fidessa more chaste then kinde. By B. Griffin |
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SONNET. XX.
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 | Fidessa |  |
SONNET. XX.
[Great is the ioy that no tongue can expresse]
Great is the ioy that no tongue can expresse,Faire babe (new borne) how much doest thou delight me?
But what is mine so great? yea no whit lesse
So great, that of all woes it doth acquite me.
It's faire Fidessa that this comfort bringeth,
Who sorrie for the wrongs by her procured,
Delightfull tunes of loue of true loue singeth,
Wherewith her too-chast thoughts were nere inured.
She loues (she saith) but with a loue not blind,
Her loue is counsaile that I should not loue,
But vpon vertues fixe a staied mind:
But what? this new coynd loue, loue doth reproue.
If this be loue of which you make such store,
Sweet, loue me lesse, that you may loue me more.
| Fidessa | |