I euer loue where neuer hope appeares, Yet hope drawes on my neuer-hoping care, And my liues hope would die but for dyspaire; My neuer certaine ioy breeds euer-certaine feares....
If chaste and pure deuotion of my youth, Or glorie of my Aprill-springing yeeres, Vnfained loue in naked simple truth, A thousand vowes, a thousand sighes and teares; Or if a world of faithful seruice done,...
Die, die, my soule, and neuer taste of ioy, If sighes, nor teares, nor vowes, nor prayers can moue; If fayth and zeale be but esteemd a toy, And kindnes be vnkindnes in my loue....
My faire, had I not erst adorned my Lute With those sweet strings stolne from thy golden hayre, Vnto the world had all my ioyes been mute, Nor had I learn'd to descant on my faire....
O thou vnkindest fayre! most fayrest shee, In thine eyes tryumph murthering my poore hart, Now doe I sweare by heauens, before we part, My halfe-slaine hart shall take reuenge on thee....
Rare of-spring of my thoughts, my dearest Loue, Begot by fancy on sweet hope exhortiue, In whom all purenes with perfection stroue, Hurt in the Embryon makes my ioyes abhortiue....
Plac'd in the forlorne hope of all dispayre Against the Forte where Beauties Army lies, Assayld with death, yet armed with gastly feare, Loe! thus my loue, my lyfe, my fortune tryes....
Why doe I speake of ioy, or write of loue, When my hart is the very Den of horror, And in my soule the paynes of hell I proue, With all his torments and infernall terror?...
My hart the Anuile where my thoughts doe beate, My words the hammers fashioning my desire, My breast the forge, including all the heate, Loue is the fuell which maintaines the fire:...
Blacke pytchy Night, companyon of my woe, The Inne of care, the Nurse of drery sorrow, Why lengthnest thou thy darkest howres so, Still to prolong my long tyme lookt-for morrow?...
Sweete secrecie, what tongue can tell thy worth? What mortall pen sufficiently can prayse thee? What curious Pensill serues to lim thee forth? What Muse hath power aboue thy height to raise thee?...
The golden Sunne vpon his fiery wheeles The horned Ram doth in his course awake, And of iust length our night and day doth make, Flinging the Fishes backward with his heeles:...
Who list to praise the dayes delicious lyght, Let him compare it to her heauenly eye, The sun-beames to the lustre of her sight; So may the learned like the similie. The mornings Crimson to her lyps alike,...
Define my loue, and tell the ioyes of heauen, Expresse my woes, and shew the paynes of hell; Declare what fate vnlucky starres haue giuen, And aske a world vpon my life to dwell....
Since holy Vestall lawes haue been neglected, The Gods pure fire hath been extinguisht quite; No Virgin once attending on that light, Nor yet those heauenly secrets once respected;...
When I first ended, then I first began; The more I trauell, further from my rest; Where most I lost, there most of all I wan; Pyned with hunger, rysing from a feast....
Goe you, my lynes, Embassadours of loue, With my harts tribute to her conquering eyes, From whence, if you one tear of pitty moue For all my woes, that onely shall suffise....
In one whole world is but one Phoenix found, A Phoenix thou, this Phoenix then alone: By thy rare plume thy kind is easly knowne, With heauenly colours dide, with natures wonder cround....
Stay, stay, sweet Time; behold, or ere thou passe From world to world, thou long hast sought to see, That wonder now wherein all wonders be, Where heauen beholds her in a mortall glasse....