Diana of George of Montemayor Translated out of Spanish into English by Bartholomew Yong |
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| 7. | The seuenth Booke of Diana of George of Montemayor. |
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 | Diana of George of Montemayor |  |
The seuenth Booke of Diana of George of Montemayor.
154
[Times change and shall (as we doe see)]
Times
change and shall (as we doe see)
And life shall haue an ende:
But yet my faith shall euer bee
Whereon my eies depende.
And life shall haue an ende:
But yet my faith shall euer bee
Whereon my eies depende.
The daies, and moments, and their scope,
The howres with their changes wrought,
Are cruell enemies to hope,
And friendes vnto a louing thought.
Thoughts still remaine, as we doe see,
And hope shall haue an end;
But yet my faith shall not leaue me,
Her honour to defend.
The howres with their changes wrought,
Are cruell enemies to hope,
And friendes vnto a louing thought.
Thoughts still remaine, as we doe see,
And hope shall haue an end;
But yet my faith shall not leaue me,
Her honour to defend.
Inconstancie in trust contriued,
Causeth great danger in conclusion,
And life that is of hope depriued,
Standes not in feare of disillusion.
Times goe and come, as we doe see,
And life shall haue an end,
But yet my faith shall neuer bee
Distan'd for foe or friend.
Causeth great danger in conclusion,
And life that is of hope depriued,
Standes not in feare of disillusion.
Times goe and come, as we doe see,
And life shall haue an end,
But yet my faith shall neuer bee
Distan'd for foe or friend.
156
[Sighes, since you lighten not my hart]
Sighes
, since you lighten not my hart,
Why go you not, why stay you still?
For in the end hope doth impart
A remedie vnto mine ill.
Why go you not, why stay you still?
For in the end hope doth impart
A remedie vnto mine ill.
Yet hope to helpe me neuer stood,
Where reason worketh all in vaine:
Nor euer promis'd so much good,
As crueltie doth giue me paine.
But loue and trust giue me an art,
And qualitie of such a skill,
That neither hope reuiues my hart,
Nor crueltie the same doth kill.
Where reason worketh all in vaine:
Nor euer promis'd so much good,
As crueltie doth giue me paine.
But loue and trust giue me an art,
And qualitie of such a skill,
That neither hope reuiues my hart,
Nor crueltie the same doth kill.
Mine eies you neede not then complaine,
With which her faire ones I haue seene,
And what neede you to feare againe,
Since viewed by her you haue beene?
And therefore change shall haue no part,
Nor entrance in my constant will,
Though crueltie doth kill my hart,
Or whether hope remaineth still.
With which her faire ones I haue seene,
And what neede you to feare againe,
Since viewed by her you haue beene?
And therefore change shall haue no part,
Nor entrance in my constant will,
Though crueltie doth kill my hart,
Or whether hope remaineth still.
160
The end of the seauen Bookes of Diana of George of Montemayor.
| Diana of George of Montemayor | |