SONNET. LXXVI. AYRE/bofome fraught with vertues richest trefure, The neast of loue, the lodging of delight: the bowre of blisse, the paradice of pleasure, the sacred harbour of that heuenly spright. How was I rauisht with your louely fight, and my frayle thoughts too rafhly led astray? whiles diuing deepe through amorous infight, on the sweet spoyle of beautie they did pray. And twixt her paps like early fruit in May, whose haruest seemd to hasten now apace : they loosely did theyr wanton winges display, and there to rest themselues did boldly place. Sweet thoughts I enuy your so happy rest, which oft I wisht, yet neuer was fo bleft. WAS SONNET. LXXVII. AS/it a dreame, or did I see it playne, all fpred with iuncats, fit to entertayne, That many fought yet none could euer tafte, my thoughts the guests, which would thereon haue fedd. ▼ 2u icure and vor doe credit it, Frna var ielie ye degly fuch doe fee: te te fare that is the gentle wit, s mit s much more prayid of me. tume or magic and loose that glorious hew: For fere cripción, tat doth filesh enfew. These bouce: that doch argue you be Eume and borne of heavenly feed : Seru & from that are Spirit, from whom al true and peried benty did at firit proceed. è mèr fire, and what he fayre hath made, ocher fayre lyke flowres vntymely fade. A SONNET. LXXX. FTER /fo long a race as I haue run Through Faery land, which those fix books cõpile giue leaue to rest me, being halfe fordonne, and gather to my felfe new breath awhile. hen as a steed refreshed after toyle, out of my prison I will breake anew : and ftoutly will that fecond worke affoyle, with ftrong endeuour and attention dew. "ill then giue leaue to me in pleasant mew, to sport my muse and sing my loues sweet praise : the contemplation of whose heauenly hew, my spirit to an higher pitch will rayse. But let her prayses yet be low and meane, SONNET. LXXXI. AYRE/is my loue, when her fayre golden heares, when with the loose wynd ye wauing chance to marke: fayre when the rose in her red cheekes appeares, or in her eyes the fyre of loue does sparke. Fayre when her breft lyke a rich laden barke, with pretious merchandize she forth doth lay: fayre whe that cloud of pryde, which oft doth dark her goodly light with smiles she driues away. But fayrest she, when so she doth display the gate with pearles and rubyes richly dight: throgh which her words fo wife do make their way to beare the meffage of her gentle spright, The reft be works of natures wonderment, but this the worke of harts astonishment. 113 I AMORETTI. SONNET. LXXXII OY/ of my life, full oft for louing you I bleffe my lot, that was fo lucky placed: but then the more your owne mishap I rew, that are so much by fo meane loue embaíed. For had the equall heuens fo much you graced in this as in the rest, ye mote inuent fom heuenly wit, whose verse could haue enchafed your glorious name in golden moniment. But fince ye deignd fo goodly to relent to me your thrall, in whom is little worth, that little that I am, shall all be spent, in setting your immortal prayfes forth. Whofe lofty argument vplifting me, fhall lift you vp vnto an high degree. MY SONNET. LXXXIII. Y/hungry eyes, through greedy couetize, ftill to behold the obiect of theyr payne: with no contentment can themselues fuffize, but hauing pine, and hauing not complayne, For lacking it, they cannot lyfe sustayne, and seeing it, they gaze on it the more : in theyr amazement like Narcissus vayne whofe eyes him ftaru'd: fo plenty makes me pore. Yet are myne eyes so filled with the store of that fayre fight, that nothing else they brooke : but loath the things which they did like before, and can no more endure on them to looke. All this worlds glory feemeth vayne to me, and all theyr showes but shadowes fauing fhe. Sonnet LXXXIII is nearly a repetition of Sonnet XXXV. : but compare. |