 | "Songes and Sonettes written by the ryght honorable
Lorde Henry Haward late Earle of Surrey, and other" |  |
What rage is this?
To his vnkinde loue.
K3v
What power, what plage doth wery thus my minde:
Within my bones to rankle is assinde
What poyson pleasant swete?
Lo, see, myne eyes flow with continuall teares:
The body still away slepelesse it weares:
My foode nothing my fainting strength repayres,
Nor doth my limmes sustain.
In depe wide wound, the dedly stroke doth turne:
To cureles skarre that neuer shall returne.
Go to: triumph: reioyce thy goodly turne:
Thy frend thou doest oppresse.
Oppresse thou doest: and hast of him no cure:
Nor yet my plaint no pitie can procure.
Fierce Tigre, fell, hard rock without recure:
Cruell rebell to Loue,
Once may thou loue, neuer beloued again:
So loue thou styll, and not thy loue obtain:
So wrathfull loue, with spites of iust disdain,
May thret thy cruell hart.
| "Songes and Sonettes written by the ryght honorable
Lorde Henry Haward late Earle of Surrey, and other" | |