Lyric Poems Made in Imitation of the Italians. Of which, many are Translations From other Languages ... By Philip Ayres |
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Finding Cynthia in Pain, and crying.
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 | Lyric Poems |  |
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Finding Cynthia in Pain, and crying.
A Sonnet.
Why, Idol of my Heart, these mournful Cryes,
And so much Grief on those fair Cheeks appears
From whence proceed those envious Showres of Tears
Dark'ning the Lustre of thy Beautious Eyes?
And so much Grief on those fair Cheeks appears
From whence proceed those envious Showres of Tears
Dark'ning the Lustre of thy Beautious Eyes?
How dares bold Sorrow labour to remove,
So many Graces from their proper Place?
Ah, Cynthia! Pain endeavours, in thy Face,
To poyson all the sweetest Charms of Love.
So many Graces from their proper Place?
Ah, Cynthia! Pain endeavours, in thy Face,
To poyson all the sweetest Charms of Love.
Sense of thy Grief, my Soul with Anguish fills,
Which out of Pity into Tears distills,
And for thy Ease would fain endure thy Woe;
Which out of Pity into Tears distills,
And for thy Ease would fain endure thy Woe;
But this Affliction, sure thy Heart sustains,
That, Cruel Thou, being sensible of Pains,
May'st, to thy Constant Martyr, Pity show.
That, Cruel Thou, being sensible of Pains,
May'st, to thy Constant Martyr, Pity show.
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