Part 5 (1/2)

LVII

Lo here the impost of a faith entire, That love doth pay, and her disdain extorts; Behold the message of a chaste desire That tells the world how much my grief imports.

These tributary pa.s.sions, beauty's due, I send those eyes, the cabinets of love; That cruelty herself might grieve to view Th'affliction her unkind disdain doth move.

And how I live, cast down from off all mirth, Pensive, alone, only but with despair; My joys abortive perish in their birth, My griefs long-lived and care succeeding care.

This is my state, and Delia's heart is such; I say no more, I fear I said too much.

REJECTED SONNETS

[The following four sonnets were Numbers 3, 10, 12 and 16 in Newman's edition of 1591. They do not appear in any other editions.]

I

The only bird alone that nature frames, When weary of the tedious life she lives, By fire dies, yet finds new life in flames, Her ashes to her shape new essence gives.

When only I, the only wretched wight, Weary of life that breathes but sorrow's blast, Pursue the flame of such a beauty bright, That burns my heart, and yet my life still lasts.

O sovereign light, that with thy sacred flame Consumes my life, revive me after this!

And make me, with the happy bird, the same That dies to live, by favour of thy bliss!

This deed of thine will show a G.o.ddess' power, In so long death to grant one living hour.

II

The sly enchanter when to work his will And secret wrong on some forespoken wight, Frames wax in form to represent aright The poor unwitting wretch he means to kill, And p.r.i.c.ks the image framed by magic's skill, Whereby to vex the party day and night; Like hath she done, whose show bewitched my sight To beauty's charms, her lover's blood to spill.

For first, like wax she framed me by her eyes, Whose rays sharp-pointed set upon my breast Martyr my life and plague me in this wise With ling'ring pain to perish in unrest.

Nought could, save this, my sweetest fair suffice, To try her art on him that loves her best.

III

The tablet of my heavy fortunes here Upon thine altar, Paphian Power, I place.

The grievous s.h.i.+pwreck of my travels dear In bulged bark, all perished in disgrace.

That traitor Love was pilot to my woe; My sails were hope, spread with my sighs of grief; The twin lights which my hapless course did show Hard by th'inconstant sands of false relief, Were two bright stars which led my view apart.

A siren's voice allured me come so near To perish on the marble of her heart, A danger which my soul did never fear.

Lo, thus he fares that trusts a calm too much; And thus fare I whose credit hath been such!

IV

Weigh but the cause, and give me leave to plain me, For all my hurt, that my heart's queen hath wrought it; She whom I love so dear, the more to pain me, Withholds my right where I have dearly bought it.

Dearly I bought that was so slightly rated, Even with the price of blood and body's wasting; She would not yield that ought might be abated, For all she saw my love was pure and lasting, And yet now scorns performance of the pa.s.sion, And with her presence justice overruleth.

She tells me flat her beauty bears no action; And so my plea and process she excludeth.

What wrong she doth, the world may well perceive it, To accept my faith at first, and then to leave it.

[This sonnet was Number 8 in Newman's edition of 1591, is found in the editions of '92 and '94, but was omitted thereafter.]