Licia, or Poemes of Loue In Honour of the admirable and singular vertues of his Lady, to the imitation of the best Latin Poets, and others. Whereunto is added the Rising to the Crowne of Richard the third [by Giles Fletcher] |
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| II. |
| III. |
| IIII. |
| V. |
| VI. |
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| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XIII. |
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| XIIII. |
| XV. | Sonnet. XV.
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| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
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| XXV. |
| XXVI. |
| XXVII. |
| XXVIII. |
| XXIX. |
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| XXXI. |
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| XXXIIII. |
| XXXV. |
| XXXVI. |
| XXXVIII. |
| XXXVIII. |
| XXXIX. |
| XL. |
| XLI. |
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| XLIII. |
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| XLV. |
| XLVI. |
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| XLVIII. |
| XLIX. |
| L. |
| LI. |
| LII. |
 | Licia, or Poemes of Loue |  |
16
Sonnet. XV.
[I stood amaz'd, and sawe my Licia shine]
I stood amaz'd, and sawe my Licia shine,Fairer then Phœbus, in his brightest pride,
Set foorth in colours, by a hand divine,
Where naught was wanting, but a soule to guide.
It was a picture, that I could descrye:
Yet made with arte, so as it seem'd to live,
Surpassing faire, and yet it had no eye:
Whereof my senses, could no reason give.
With that the Painter bidde me not to muse,
Her eyes are shut, but I deserve no blame.
For if she saw, in faith, it could not chuse:
But that the worke, had wholly beene a flame.
Then burne me (sweete) with brightnesse of your eyes,
That Phænix like, from thence I may arise.
| Licia, or Poemes of Loue | |