 | Sinetes (1597) |  |
PASSION. V.
[Sound Triton forth thy heauy dolefull knill]
Sound Triton forth thy heauy dolefull knill,
That rings a peale of en'r enduring woe,
No vacant place but balefull Ecchos sill:
My heart is made a harbour for the foe:
That yeildeth foode vnto my cursed cares,
And poyson strong with hony ioyn'd prepares.
That rings a peale of en'r enduring woe,
No vacant place but balefull Ecchos sill:
My heart is made a harbour for the foe:
That yeildeth foode vnto my cursed cares,
And poyson strong with hony ioyn'd prepares.
Heau'ns shew your power, earth tremble at my crye,
And stony rockes be molyfied with moane,
The rurall Gods with mournfull melodie,
Lament my chaunce, bewaile choice ech one,
Your sheapheard swaine in sables clad with care,
Doth for the dead some mourning weeds prepare.
And stony rockes be molyfied with moane,
The rurall Gods with mournfull melodie,
Lament my chaunce, bewaile choice ech one,
Your sheapheard swaine in sables clad with care,
Doth for the dead some mourning weeds prepare.
The liuing doth presage his dying dole.
His life is death while others reape his toyle,
Who hath not power himselfe for to controle,
Is sure the fruite of some aacursed soyle,
His tong too long, his wisedome is too short,
Who rues in deede the thing he spake in sport.
His life is death while others reape his toyle,
Who hath not power himselfe for to controle,
Is sure the fruite of some aacursed soyle,
His tong too long, his wisedome is too short,
Who rues in deede the thing he spake in sport.
But Ladies yet condemne not his desire,
Though passed deeds his present griefe procure,
And lare mishhapps yeild fuell to his fier,
That scant he can the scorching heate endure,
Whose ayde he craues to mollyfie his paine,
With pleasāt sport of some conceyted vaine,
Though passed deeds his present griefe procure,
And lare mishhapps yeild fuell to his fier,
That scant he can the scorching heate endure,
Whose ayde he craues to mollyfie his paine,
With pleasāt sport of some conceyted vaine,
| Sinetes (1597) | |