 | Poems (1872) |  |
55
VI. THE COMPLAINT OF A LOUER, WEARING BLACKE AND TAWNIE
A crowne of Baies shall that man weare,
That triumphes ouer me:
For Blacke and Tawnie will I weare,
Which mourning colours be.
That triumphes ouer me:
For Blacke and Tawnie will I weare,
Which mourning colours be.
The more I follow one, the more she fled, away,
As Daphne did full long agoe, Apollos wishfull pray:
The more my plaints I do resound, the lesse she pities me
The more I sought, the lesse I found, yt mine she ment to be.
As Daphne did full long agoe, Apollos wishfull pray:
The more my plaints I do resound, the lesse she pities me
The more I sought, the lesse I found, yt mine she ment to be.
Melpomene, alas with dolefull tunes help than,
And sing Bis, woe worth on me, forsaken man:
Then Daphne's baies shall that man weare, that triumphes ouer me,
For blacke and tawnie will I weare, which mourning colours be.
And sing Bis, woe worth on me, forsaken man:
Then Daphne's baies shall that man weare, that triumphes ouer me,
For blacke and tawnie will I weare, which mourning colours be.
Drowne me with tricklinge teares, you wailefull wightes of woe,
Come helpe these handes to rent my haires, my rufull hap to showe;
On whom the scorching flames of loue, dooth feed you see,
Ah a lalalantida, my deere dame, hath thus tormented me.
Come helpe these handes to rent my haires, my rufull hap to showe;
On whom the scorching flames of loue, dooth feed you see,
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Wherefore you Muses nine, with dolefull tunes help than,
And sing Bis, woe worth on me, forsaken man.
then Daphne's baies shall that man weare, that triumphes ouer me,
For blacke and tawnie will I weare, which mourning colours be.
And sing Bis, woe worth on me, forsaken man.
then Daphne's baies shall that man weare, that triumphes ouer me,
For blacke and tawnie will I weare, which mourning colours be.
An anker's life to lead, with nailes to scratch my graue,
Where earthly wormes, on me shall feede, is all the ioyes I craue:
And hide my selfe from shame, sith that mine eyes doo see,
Ah a lalalantida, my deere dame hath thus tormented me.
Where earthly wormes, on me shall feede, is all the ioyes I craue:
And hide my selfe from shame, sith that mine eyes doo see,
Ah a lalalantida, my deere dame hath thus tormented me.
And all that present be, with dolefull tunes helpe than,
And sing Bis, woe worth on me, forsaken man.
And sing Bis, woe worth on me, forsaken man.
| Poems (1872) | |