Elizabethan Sonnet Cycles | Page 9

or lasses.
DAMON
Did not thine age yield warrantise, old man,
Impatience would
enforce me to offend thee;
Me list not now thy forward skill to scan,

Yet will I pray that love may mend or end thee.
Spring flowers,
sea-tides, earth, grass, sky, stars shall banish, Before the thoughts of
love or Phillis vanish.
So get thee gone, and fold thy tender sheep,
For lo, the great

automaton of day
In Isis stream his golden locks doth steep;
Sad
even her dusky mantle doth display;
Light-flying fowls, the posts of
night, disport them, And cheerful-looking vesper doth consort them.
Come you, my careful flock, forego you master,
I'll fold you up and
after fall a-sighing;
Words have no worth my secret wounds to plaster;

Naught may refresh my joys but Phillis nighing.
Farewell, old
Demades.
DEMADES
Damon, farewell.
How 'gainst advice doth headlong youth rebel!
[Footnote C: Our?]
AN ELEGY
Ah cruel winds, why call you hence away?
Why make you breach
betwixt my soul and me?
Ye traitorous floods, why nil your floats
delay
Until my latest moans discoursèd be?
For though ye salt
sea-gods withhold the rain
Of all your floats and gentle winds be still,

While I have wept such tears as might restrain
The rage of tides
and winds against their will.
Ah shall I love your sight, bright shining
eyes?
And must my soul his life and glory leave?
Must I forsake the
bower where solace lives,
To trust to tickle fates that still deceive?

Alas, so wills the wanton queen of change,
That each man tract this
labyrinth of life
With slippery steps, now wronged by fortune strange,

Now drawn by counsel from the maze of strife!
Ah joy! No joy
because so soon thou fleetest,
Hours, days, and times inconstant in
your being!
Oh life! No life, since with such chance thou meetest!

Oh eyes! No eyes, since you must lose your seeing!
Soul, be thou sad,
dissolve thy living powers
To crystal tears, and by their pores express

The grief that my distressèd soul devours!
Clothe thou my body all
in heaviness;
My suns appeared fair smiling full of pleasure,
But
now the vale of absence overclouds them;
They fed my heart with

joys exceeding measure
Which now shall die, since absence needs
must shroud them. Yea, die! Oh death, sweet death, vouchsafe that
blessing, That I may die the death whilst she regardeth!
For sweet
were death, and sweet were death's oppressing, If she look on who all
my life awardeth.
Oh thou that art the portion of my joy,
Yet not the
portion, for thou art the prime;
Suppose my griefs, conceive the deep
annoy
That wounds my soul upon this sorry time!
Pale is my face,
and in my pale confesses
The pain I suffer, since I needs must leave
thee.
Red are mine eyes through tears that them oppresses,
Dulled
are my sp'rits since fates do now bereave thee.
And now, ah now, my
plaints are quite prevented!
The winds are fair the sails are hoisèd
high,
The anchors weighed, and now quite discontented,
Grief so
subdues my heart as it should die.
A faint farewell with trembling
hand I tender,
And with my tears my papers are distained.
Which
closèd up, my heart in them I render,
To tell thee how at parting I
complained.
Vouchsafe his message that doth bring farewell,
And
for my sake let him with beauty dwell.
THIRSIS EGLOGA SECUNDA
Muses help me, sorrow swarmeth,
Eyes are fraught with seas of
languish;
Heavy hope my solace harmeth,
Mind's repast is bitter
anguish.
Eye of day regarded never
Certain trust in world untrusty;

Flattering hope beguileth ever
Weary, old, and wanton lusty.
Dawn of day beholds enthronèd
Fortune's darling, proud and
dreadless;
Darksome night doth hear him moanèd,
Who before was
rich and needless.
Rob the sphere of lines united,
Make a sudden void in nature;
Force
the day to be benighted,
Reave the cause of time and creature;
Ere the world will cease to vary,
This I weep for, this I sorrow.


Muses, if you please to tarry,
Further helps I mean to borrow.
Courted once by fortune's favour,
Compassed now with envy's curses,

All my thoughts of sorrow savour,
Hopes run fleeting like the
sources.
Ay me! Wanton scorn hath maimèd
All the joy my heart enjoyèd;

Thoughts their thinking have disclaimèd,
Hate my hopes hath quite
annoyèd.
Scant regard my weal hath scanted,
Looking coy hath forced my
lowering;
Nothing liked where nothing wanted
Weds mine eyes to
ceaseless showering.
Former love was once admirèd,
Present favour is estrangèd,
Loath
the pleasure long desirèd;
Thus both men and thoughts are changèd.
Lovely swain with lucky guiding,
Once (but now no more so friended)

Thou my flocks hast had in minding,
From the morn till day was
ended.
Drink and fodder, food and folding,
Had my lambs and ewes together;

I with them was still beholding,
Both in warmth and winter
weather.
Now they languish since refusèd,
Ewes and lambs are pained with
pining;
I with ewes and lambs confusèd,
All unto our deaths
declining.
Silence, leave thy cave obscurèd;
Deign a doleful swain to tender;

Though disdains I have endurèd,
Yet I am no deep offender.
Phillis' son can with his finger
Hide his scar, it is so little;
Little sin
a day to linger,
Wise men wander in a tittle.
Thriftless yet