Global Utilities

Mary Wroth's Poetry: An Electronic Edition

Wroth Poems (all side-by-side)

Folger Image Folger Transcription Folger Modernisation PA Transcription PA Modernisation Urania Transcription Urania Modernisation
F1 F1mod P1 P1mod

Pamphilia to Amphilanthus

.I.

When nights black mantle could most darknes proue,
    and sleepe deaths Image did my ſenceſes hiere
    from knowledg of my ſelf, then thoughts did moue
    ſwifter then thoſe most ſwiftnes need require:

In sleepe, a Chariot drawne by wing'd deſire
    I ſawe: wher ſate bright Venus Queene of loue,
    and att her feete her ſonne, still adding fire
    to burning hearts wch she did hold aboue,

Butt one hart flaming more then all the rest
    the goddeſs held, and putt itt to my brest
    deare ſonne, now shute ſayd she: thus must wee wi

Hee her obay'd, and martir'd my poore hart,
    I, waking hop'd as dreames itt would depart
    yett ſince: O mee: a lover haue I bi

1.

When night's black mantle could most darkness prove,
    And sleep, death's image, did my senses hire*
    From knowledge of myself, then thoughts did move
    Swifter than those most swiftness need require:

In sleep, a chariot drawn by winged desire
    I saw, where sat bright Venus, Queen of love,
    And at her feet her son, still adding fire
    To burning hearts, which she did hold above.

But one heart flaming more than all the rest
    The Goddess held, and put it to my breast.
    'Dear son, now shoot,' said she, 'thus must we win.'

He her obeyed, and martyred my poor heart.
    I waking hoped as dreams it would depart;
    Yet since, O me, a lover I have been.


In the Folger manuscript, the sonnets begin by being 'named' as 'Pamphilia to Amphilanthus', but, as discussed in the textual introduction, they are frequently signed and separated by Mary Wroth's abbreviated signature: the S fermé, which confirms her identity as a Sidney (rather than a Wroth). In P, where the sonnet sequence is also headed 'Pamphilia to Amphilanthus', the S fermé no longer appears, which might reinforce the sense that the sonnets are 'by' Pamphilia - although of course Pamphilia is also a version of Wroth herself. The sonnets are placed on a new page after the printed romance ends in mid sentence (in imitation, most probably) of the 1590 revised Arcadia.

The first sonnet in both F and P differs considerably from the opening sonnets in Philip and Robert Sidney's sonnet sequences. (Philip Sidney's sonnet sequence 'Astrophil and Stella', henceforth "AS", and Robert Sidney's sonnet sequence 'Rosis and Lysa', henceforth "RS"). The depiction of Venus and Cupid, who are also present as characters in Wroth's pastoral play Love's Victory, sets up Wroth's theme of the speaker as a martyr for love, tortured by her desire. This kind of dramatisation is present in other sonnet sequences and probably derives from Petrarch. In AS, sonnet 20 describes Astrophil's heart being pierced by Cupid's dart.

hire: ie sleep hires (employs) her senses away from knowledge of herself.

PAMPHILIA,
TO
AMPHILANTHVS.


I

When night's blacke Mantle could moſt darkneſſe proue,
    And ſleepe (deaths Image) did my ſenſes hyre,
    From Knowledge of my ſelfe, then thoughts did moue
    Swifter then thoſe, most switneſſe neede require?

In ſleepe, a Chariot drawne by wing'd Deſire,
    I ſaw; where ſate bright Venus Queene of Loue,
    And at her feete her Sonne, ſtill adding Fire
    To burning hearts, which ſhe did hold aboue,

But one heart flaming more then all the reſt,
    The Goddeſſe held, and put it to my breaſt,
    Deare Sonne now ſhut, ſaid ſhe, thus muſt we winne;

He her obeyd, and martyr'd my poore heart.
    I waking hop'd as dreames it would depart,
    Yet ſince, O me, a Lover I haue beene.
1.

When night's black mantle could most darkness prove,
    And sleep, death's image, did my senses* hire
    From knowledge of myself, then thoughts did move
    Swifter than those most swiftness* need require:

In sleep, a chariot drawn by winged desire
    I saw, where sat bright Venus, Queen of love,
    And at her feet her son, still adding fire
    To burning hearts, which she did hold above.

But one heart flaming more than all the rest
    The Goddess held, and put it to my breast.
    'Dear son, now shoot,' said she, 'thus must we win.'

He her obeyed, and martyred my poor heart.
    I waking hoped as dreams it would depart;
    Yet since, O me, a lover have I* been.


senses: the first of Wroth's corrections as she revised F for P: corrected from 'senceses'.
P swiftness: reads 'switness', an example of a corruption probably created by the compositor (early modern typesetter).
have I: changed from 'I have': could be authorial or a compositor's mistake.

F2 F2mod P2 P2mod

.2.

Deare eyes how well (indeed) you doe adorne
    that bleſsed spheere, wch gazing eyes hold deere:
    the loued place of Cupids for triumph's neere:
    the court of glory, wher his force was borne:

How may they terme you Aprills ſweetest morne
    when pleaſing looks, from thoſe bright lights apeere:
    A ſun=shine day; from clouds, and mists still cleere
    kind nurſing fires for wishes yett vnborne!

Too starres of Heauen, ſent downe to grace the Earthe,
    plac'd in that throne wch giues all ioyes theyr birthe!
    shining, and burning; pleaſing yett theyr charmes;

Wch wounding, yett in hurts are deem'd delights,
    ſoe pleaſant is ther force! Soe great theyr mights
    As, happy, they can triumph in theyr harmes

2.

Dear eyes,* how well, indeed, you do adorn
    That blessed sphere which gazing eyes hold dear,
    The loved place of Cupid's* triumphs near,
    The court of glory, where his* force was not borne,

How may they term you April's sweetest morn
    When pleasing looks from those bright lights appear
    A sunshine day, from clouds and mists still clear
    Kind nursing fires for wishes yet unborn.

Two stars of Heaven sent down to grace the earth,
    Placed in that throne which gives all joys their birth,
    Shining and burning, pleasing, yet their charms

Which wounding, yet* in hurts are deemed delights,
    So pleasant is their force, so great their mights
    As, happy, they can triumph in their harms.


eyes: = 'souls' in P; the imagery of eyes begins Wroth's reworking (from a female perspective) of what we might call the male gaze in the traditional sonnet. In both AS and RS eyes and stars (which in AS stand for Stella, Astrophil's object of desire) feature prominently. For example, this is the opening quatrain of the first sonnet in AS:

    You purest stars, whose never-dying fires
    Deck heavenly spheres and rule the world below,
    Grudge not if I in your clear beauties know
    The fair maid's eyes, the stars of my desires.

'Cupid's' = 'sought for' in P.
'his' = 'Love's' in P.
'yet' = 'even' in P.
2


Deare eyes how well indeed, you doe adorne
        (cause by larger first letter in the line above]That bleſſed Sphere, which gazing ſoules hold deare?
    The loued place of ſought for triumphs, neere
    The Court of Glory, where Loues force was borne.

How may they terme you Aprills ſweeteſt morne?
    When pleaſing lookes, from thoſe bright lights appeare
    A Sunne-ſhine day, from clowdes, and miſts still cleare:
    Kinde nurſing fires for wiſhes yet vnborne.

Two Starres of Heauen ſent downe to grace the Earth,
    Plac'd in that Throne which giues all ioyes their birth,
    Shining, and burning; pleaſing yet their Charmes:

Which wounding euen in hurts are deem'd delights;
    So pleaſant is their force, ſo great their mights,
    As happy they can tryumph in their harmes.
2.

Dear eyes, how well, indeed, you do adorn
    That blessed sphere which gazing souls* hold dear,
    The loved place of sought for* triumphs near,
    The court of glory, where Love's* force was not borne,

How may they term you April's sweetest morn
    When pleasing looks from those bright lights appear
    A sunshine day, from clouds and mists still clear
    Kind nursing fires for wishes yet unborn.

Too stars of Heaven sent down to grace the earth,
    Placed in that throne which gives all joys their birth,
    Shining and burning, pleasing, yet their charms

Which wounding, even* in hurts are deemed delights,
    So pleasant is their force, so great their mights
    As, happy, they can triumph in their harms.


souls: changed from F's 'eyes'; possibly authorial to avoid the repetition, but the result is awkward.
sought for: changed from F's 'Cupid's'.
Love's : changed from F's 'his', which completes the shift from Cupid to the less specific Love.
even: changed from F's 'yet'.

F3 F3mod P3 P3mod

.3.

Yett is ther hope: Then Loue butt play thy part
    remember well thy ſelf, and think on mee;
    shine in thoſe eyes wch conquer'd haue my hart?
    and ſee if mine bee slack to anſwere thee,

Lodg in that brest, and pitty moue for thee?*
    for flames wch in mine burne in truest ſmart
    exiling thoughts that touch inconstancie,
    or thoſe wch waste nott in the constant art,

Watch butt my sleepe; if I take any rest.
    for thought of you, my spiritt ſoe distrest
    as pale, and famish'd, I, for mercy cry?

Will you yor ſeruant leave? think butt on this:
    who weares loues crowne, must nott doe ſoe amiſs,
    but ſeeke theyr good, who on thy force rely:


note: words obscured
3.

Yet is there hope. Then love but play thy part;
    Remember well thyself and think on me,
    Shine in those eyes* which conquered have my heart,
    And see if mine be slack to answer thee.

Lodge in that breast and, pity move to be*
    For flames which in mine burn in truest smart,
    Exiling thoughts that touch inconstancy,*
    Or those which waste not in the constant art.

Watch but my sleep, if I take any rest
    For thought of you, my spirit so distressed
    As, pale and famished, I for mercy cry.

Will not your servant leave? Think but on this:
    Who wears love's crown must not do so amiss,
    But seek their god who on thy force rely.*


eyes: In AS 12 Cupid 'shin'st in Stella's eyes'.

'move to be' = 'moving see' in P.

Inconstancy: throughout "Pamphilia to Amphilanthus" and Urania inconstancy is a theme, especially as centred on the inconstant hero Amphilanthus (whose name means lover of many), compared to Pamphilia (whose name which means lover of one).

'rely' = 'do lie' in P.
3


Yet is there hope, then Loue but play thy part;
    Remember well thy ſelfe, and thinke on me;
    Shine in thoſe eyes which conquer'd haue my heart,
    And ſee if mine, be ſlacke to anſwer thee.

Lodge in that breaſt, and pitty moouing ſee,
    For flames which in mine burne in trueſt ſmart,
    Exciling thoughts, that touch Inconſtancy,
    Or thoſe which waſte not in the conſtant Art.

Watch but my ſleepe, if I take any reſt,
    For thought of you, my ſpirit so diſtreſt,
    As pale and famiſh'd, I for mercy cry.

Will you your ſeruant leave? thinke but on this,
    Who weares Loue's Crowne, muſt not doe ſo amiſſe
    But ſeeke their good, who on thy force doe lye.
3.

Yet is there hope. Then love but play thy part;
    Remember well thyself and think on me,
    Shine in those eyes which conquered have my heart,
    And see if mine be slack to answer thee.

Lodge in that breast and, pity moving see*
    For flames which in mine burn in truest smart,
    Exiling thoughts that touch inconstancy,
    Or those which waste not in the constant art.

Watch but my sleep, if I take any rest
    For thought of you, my spirit so distressed
    As, pale and famished, I for mercy cry.

Will not your servant leave? Think but on this:
    Who wears love's crown must not do so amiss,
    But seek their god who on thy force do lie.*


'moving see': changed from F 'move to be', probably an authorial correction
'do lie': changed from F 'rely' , this might be an error, as the sense of F is much clearer.

F4 F4mod

.4.

Venus vnto the Gods a ſute did moue,
    that ſince she was of loue the godeſs stil'd
    she only might the pouer haue of loue,
    and nott as now a partner wth her child,

The cauſe to this wch stird the Godeſs milde
    was that of late her ſeruant faulse did proue
    hurt as she ſayd afresh by Cupide wilde,
    and to a Nimph his paſsions did remoue;

Or els that they would eyes vnto him giue
    that hee might ſee, how hee his shafts did driue؛
    this they deny'd: For if hee blind did ill

What would hee ſeeing? Butt thus much they did
    to shoote wthout her leaue they him forbid
    hee this obſeru'd, and ſince obays her will.

4.

Venus* unto the Gods a suit did move,
    That since she was of love the goddess styled,
    She only might the power have of love,
    And not as now a partner with her child,

The cause to this which stirred the Goddess mild
    Was that of late her servant false did prove
    Hurt as she said afresh by Cupid wild,
    And to a Nymph his passions did remove;

Or else that they would eyes unto him give
    That he might see, how he his shafts did drive,
    This they denied: For if he blind did ill,
    What would he seeing? But thus much they did

To shoot without her leave they him forbid
    He this observed, and since obeys her will.


This sonnet only appears in F and was dropped from P.

Venus: Wroth made extensive use of Venus and Cupid in her pastoral play Love's Victory, as well as throughout her poetry.


F5 F5mod P5 P5mod

.5.

Can pleaſing ſight, misfortune euer bring?
    can firme deſire, euer, torments try?
    can winning eyes proue to the hart a sting?
    Or can ſweet lips in treaſon hidden ly?

The Sun most pleaſing blinds the strongest eye
    if to much look'd on, breaking the ſights string;
    deſires crost, must vnto miſchiefes hye,
    and as dispaire, a luckles chance may fling.

Eyes, hauing wunn, reiecting proues a sting
    killing the bud beefor the tree doth spring
    ſweet lips nott louing doth as poyſon proue

Deſire, ſight, Eyes, lips, ſeeke, ſee, proue, and find
    you loue may wi, butt curſes if vnkind
    Then show you harmes diſlike, and ioye in Loue

5.

Can* pleasing sight, misfortune ever bring?
    Can firm desire ever, torments* try?
    Can winning eyes prove to the hart a sting?
    Or can sweet lips in treason hidden lie?

The Sun most pleasing blinds the strongest eye
    If too* much look'd on, breaking the sight's string;
    Desires crossed * must unto mischiefs* hie,
    And as despair, a luckless chance may fling.

Eyes, having won,* rejecting proves a sting
    Killing the bud before the tree doth spring,
    Sweet lips not loving doth* as poison prove.

Desire, sight, eyes, lips, seek, see, prove, and find
    You love may win, but curses if unkind,
    Then show you harm's dislike, and joy in Love.


This sonnet has a similar structure (termed correlative verse) to AS sonnet 43, which begins:

    Faire eyes, sweet lips, dear heart, that foolish I
    Could hope, by Cupid's help, on you to prey,
    Since to himself he doth your gifts apply,
    As his main force, choice sport, and easeful stay!

Wroth made a number of revisions for the 1621 printing (P).

'Ever, torments' = 'a painfull torment' (P)
'too' = 'to' (F), 'two' (P)
'crossed' = 'still crossed' (P)
'mischiefs' = 'mischief' (P)
'won' = 'none' (P)
'doth' = 'do' (P)
5


Can pleaſing ſight misfortune euer bring?
    Can firme deſire a painefull torment trye?
    Can winning eyes proue to the heart a ſting?
    Or can ſweet lips in Treaſon hidden lye?

The Sunne moſt pleaſing, blindes the ſtrongeſt eye,
    If two much look'd on, breaking the ſights ſtring;
    Deſires ſtill croſt muſt vnto miſchiefe hie,
    And as Deſpaire, a luckleſſe chance may fling.

Eyes hauing none, reiecting prooues a ſting,
    Killing the budd before the tree doth ſpring;
    Sweet lipps, not louing, do as poyſon proue:

Deſire, ſight, eyes, lipps; ſeeke, ſee, proue, aud finde,
    You loue may winn, but curſes, if vnkinde,
    Then ſhew you harmes diſlike, and ioy in loue.
5.

Can pleasing sight, misfortune ever bring?
    Can firm desire a painful torment try?
    Can winning eyes prove to the hart a sting?
    Or can sweet lips in treason hidden lie?

The Sun most pleasing blinds the strongest eye
    If too* much look'd on, breaking the sight's string;
    Desires still crossed must unto mischief hie,
    And as despair, a luckless chance may fling.

Eyes, having none,* rejecting proves a sting
    Killing the bud before the tree doth spring,
    Sweet lips not loving do as poison prove.

Desire, sight, eyes, lips, seek, see, prove, and find
    You love may win, but curses if unkind,
    Then show you harm's dislike, and joy in love.


'too': emended from 'two'
'none' = 'won' in F, perhaps a transcription error in P.

F6 F6mod P6 P6mod

.6.

O striue nott still to heape diſdaine on mee
    nor pleaſure take your cruelty to show
    on haples mee, on whom all ſorrowes flow,
    and byding make: as giuen, and lost by thee,

Alas; eu'ne griefe is growne to pitty mee;
    ſcorne cries out 'gainst itt ſelf ſuch ill to show,
    and would giue place for ioyes delights to flow;
    yett wretched I, all torturs beare from thee,

Long haue I ſuffer'd, and esteem'd itt deere
    ſince you ſoe willd; yett grew my paines more neere:
    wish you my end? ſay ſoe, you shall itt haue;

For all the depth of my hart=kild dispaire
    is that for you I feele nott death for care;
    Butt now I'le ſeeke itt, ſince you will nott ſaue

6.

O strive not still to heap disdain on me
    Nor pleasure take your cruelty to show
    On hapless me, on whom all sorrows flow,
    And biding make: as given, and lost by thee,

Alas; even grief is grown to pity me;
    Scorn cries out 'gainst itself such ill to show,
    And would give place for joy's delights to flow;
    Yet wretched I, all tortures* bear from thee,

Long have I suffered, and esteemed it dear
    Since you so willed,* yet grew my pains* more near.
    Wish you my* end? Say so, you shall it have;

For all the depth of my heart-killed* despair
    Is that for you I feel not death for care;
    But now I'll seek it, since you will not save.


'tortures'= 'torture' in P.
'you so willed' = 'such thy will' in P
'pains' = 'pain' in P
'my' = 'may' in P (transcription error?)
'heart-killed' = 'heart-held' in P; hard to say if this is an intentional revision or a transcription error.
6

O striue not ſtill to heape diſdaine on me,
    Nor pleaſure take, your cruelty to ſhow
    On hapleſſe me, on whom all ſorrowes flow,
    And byding make, as giuen, and loſt by thee.

Alas, euen griefe is growne to pitty me,
    Scorne cryes out 'gainſt it ſelfe ſuch ill to ſhow,
    And would giue place for ioyes delights to ſlow;
    Yet wretched I, all torture beare from thee.

Long haue I ſuffer'd, and eſteem'd it deare,
    Since ſuch thy will, yet grew my paine more neere:
    Wiſh you may ende, ſay ſo, you ſhall it haue;

For all the deapth of my heart-held deſpaire,
    Is that for you, I feele not Death for care,
    But now Ile ſeeke it, ſince you will not ſaue.
6.

O strive not still to heap disdain on me
    Nor pleasure take your cruelty to show
    On hapless me, on whom all sorrows flow,
    And biding make: as given, and lost by thee,

Alas; even grief is grown to pity me;
    Scorn cries out 'gainst itself such ill to show,
    And would give place for joy's delights to flow;
    Yet wretched I, all torture bear from thee,

Long have I suffered, and esteemed it dear
    Since such thy will, yet grew my pain more near.
    Wish you may end? Say so, you shall it have;

For all the depth of my heart-held despair
    Is that for you I feel not death for care;
    But now I'll seek it, since you will not save.


F7 F7mod P7 P7mod


Song 1.

The spring now come att last
    to trees, fields, to flowers,
And medowes makes to tast
    his pride, while ſad showers
wch from my eyes do flow
    makes knowne wt cruell paines
    colde winter yett remaines
Noe ſigne of spring I know

The Sunn wch to the Earth
    giues heate, light, and pleaſure,
ioyes in spring, hateth dearth,
    plenty makes his treaſure
His heat to mee is colde,
    his light all darknes is
    ſince I am bar'd of bliſs
I heate nor light beeholde

A sheapherdeſs thus ſayd
    who was wt griefe oprest
for truest loue beetraid
    bard her from quiett rest
And weeping thus ſayd she
    my end aprocheth neere
    now willow must I weare
My fortune ſoe will bee

Wth branches of this tree
    Ile dreſs my haples head
wch shall my wittnes bee
    my hopes in loue ar dead;
My clothes imbroder'd all
    shall bee wt Gyrlands round
ſome ſcater'd, others bound
ſome tide, ſome like to fall

The barck my booke shall bee
    wher dayly I will wright
this tale of haples mee
    true slaue to fortunes spight;
The roote shall bee my bed
    wher nightly I will lye,
    wayling inconstancy
ſince all true loue is dead,

And thes lines I will leaue
    if ſome ſuch louer come
who may them right conſeaue,
    and place them on my tombe
She who still constant lou'd
    now dead wt cruell care
    kild wt vnkind dispaire,
And change, her end heere prou'd

Song 1.

'The Spring now come at last
    To trees, fields, to flowers,
    And meadows makes to taste
    His pride, while sad showers
    Which from my* eyes do flow
    Makes known what cruel pains
    Cold Winter yet remains
    No sign of spring I* know.

The sun which to the earth
    Gives heat, light, and pleasure,
    Joys in spring, hateth dearth,
    Plenty makes his treasure
    His heat to me is cold,
    His light all darkness is
    Since I am barred of bliss
    I heat nor light behold.'

A shepherdess thus said
    Who was with grief oppressed
    For truest love betrayed
    Barred her from quiet rest.
    And weeping, thus said she:
    'My end approacheth near
    Now willow must I wear
    My fortune so will be.

With branches of this tree
    I'll dress my hapless head
    Which shall my witness be
    My hopes in love are dead;
    My clothes embroidered all
    Shall be with garlands round
    Some scattered, others bound,
    Some tied, some like to fall.

The bark my book shall be
    Where daily I will write
    This tale of hapless me
    True slave to fortune's spite;
    The root shall be my bed
    Where nightly I will lie,
    Wailing inconstancy
    Since all true love is dead.

And these lines I will leave
    If some such lover come
    Who may them right conceive,
    And place them on my tomb:
    "She who still constant loved
    Now dead with cruel care
    Killed with unkind despair,
    And change, her end here proved".'


A variation on RS song 3: 'Love not who have not loved', which, as Roberts notes, has a male shepherd lamenting his lost love: the resemblance is greatest at the final stanza:

    This said a shepherd, once
    With weights of change oppressed,
    For he had lost at once
    What ever he loved best;
    And saw, while he did mourn,
    The world's fair looks renewed
    While he a state past rued
    Which never would return.
    Love not who have not loved,
    And who do love, love no more.

This is itself a variation on the Pervigilium Veneris, a Latin poem C. 2nd century which was rediscovered and made popular throughout Europe in the late 16th century.
As a pastoral song, though, it relates to the immense popularity of pastoral in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, manifested especially, in relation to Wroth, in Philip Sidney's work, especially within Arcadia.

'my' = 'mine' in P.
'I' = 'we' in P.
Song. I.

The Spring now come at laſt
    To Trees, Fields, to Flowres,
And Meadowes makes to taſte
    His pride, while ſad ſhowres
Which from mine eyes doe flow
    Makes knowne with cruell paines,
    Cold Winter yet remaines,
No ſigne of Spring wee knowe.

The Sunne which to the Earth
    Giues heate, light, and pleaſure,
Ioyes in Spring hateth Dearth,
    Plenty makes his Treaſure.
His heate to me is colde,
    His light all darkneſſe is,
    Since I am barr'd of bliſſe,
I heate, nor light behold

A Shepherdeſſe thus ſaid,
    Who was with griefe oppreſt,
For trueſt Loue betrayd,
    Barrd her from quiet rest:
And weeping thus, ſaid ſhee,
    My end approacheth neere,
    Now Willow muſt I weare,
My fortune ſo will bee.

With Branches of this tree
    Ile dreſſe my hapleſſe head,
Which ſhall my witneſſe bee,
    My hopes in Loue are dead:
My cloathes imbroder'd all,
    Shall be with Garlands round,
    Some ſcatter'd, others bound;
Some tyde, ſome like to fall.

The Barke my Booke ſhall bee,
    Where dayly I will write,
This tale of haples mee,
    True ſlaue to Fortunes ſpite.
The roote ſhall be my bedd,
    Where nightly I will lye
    Wailing inconſtancy,
Since all true loue is dead.

And theſe Lines I will leaue,
    If ſome ſuch Louer come,
Who may them right conceiue,
    and place them on my Tombe:
She who ſtill conſtant lou'd
    Now dead with cruell care,
    Kill'd with vnkind Diſpaire,
And change, her end heere prou'd.
Song 1

'The spring now come at last
    To trees, fields, to flowers,
    And meadows makes to taste
    His pride, while sad showers
    Which from mine eyes do flow
    Makes known what cruel pains
    Cold winter yet remains
    No sign of spring we know.

The sun which to the earth
    Gives heat, light, and pleasure,
    Joys in spring, hateth dearth,
    Plenty makes his treasure
    His heat to me is cold,
    His light all darkness is
    Since I am barred of bliss
    I heat nor light behold.'

A shepherdess thus said
    Who was with grief oppressed
    For truest love betrayed
    Barred her from quiet rest.
    And weeping, thus said she:
    'My end approacheth near
    Now willow must I wear
    My fortune so will be.

With branches of this tree
    I'll dress my hapless head
    Which shall my witness be
    My hopes in love are dead;
    My clothes embroidered all
    Shall bee with garlands round
    Some scattered, others bound,
    Some tied, some like to fall.

The bark my book shall be
    Where daily I will write
    This tale of hapless me
    True slave to fortune's spite;
    The root shall be my bed
    Where nightly I will lie,
    Wailing inconstancy
    Since all true love is dead.

And these lines I will leave
    If some such lover come
    Who may them right conceive,
    And place them on my tomb:
    "She who still constant loved
    Now dead with cruel care
    Killed with unkind despair,
    And change, her end here proved".'


F8 F8mod P8 P8mod

.7.

Loue leaue to vrge, thou know'st thou hast ye hand;
    'T'is cowardiſe to striue wher none reſist:
    Pray thee leaue of, I yeeld vnto thy band;
    Doe nott thus, still, in thine owne powre perſist,

B....eehold I yeeld: lett forces bee dismist;
    I ame your ſubiect conquer'd, bound doe stand,
    neuer your foe, butt did your claime assist
    ſeeking your due of thoſe who did wt=stand;

Butt now, itt ſeemes, you would I should you loue;
    I doe confeſs, t'was you, made mee first chuſe;
    and yor faire showes made mee a louer proue
    when I my freedome did, for paine refuſe

Yett this Sr God, yor boyship I dispiſe;
Your charmes I' obay, butt loue nott want of eyes

7.

Love leave to urge, thou know'st thou hast the hand;
    'T'is cowardice to strive where none resist:
    Pray thee leave of,* I yield unto thy band;
    Do not thus, still, in thine own power persist,

Behold I yield: let forces be dismissed;
    I am your* subject conquered, bound do* stand,
    Never your* foe, but did your* claim assist
    Seeking your* due of those who did withstand;

But now, it seems, you would* I should you* love;
    I do confess, 'twas you, made me first* choose;
    And your* faire shows made me a lover prove
    when I my freedom did, for pain refuse

Yet this Sir God, your boyship I despise;
    Your charms I obey, but love not want of eyes.


The personification of Cupid is a prominent part of Wroth's poetry and also within Love's Victory. Roberts (her P8) notes that the mocking address to 'Sir God' echoes AS 53, but see also AS 61 where he is addressed as 'Dr Cupid'.

'of' = 'off' in P.
'your' = 'thy' in P. (all instances of 'your' changed to 'thy' in P).
'do' = 'to' in P.
'you would' = 'thou wouldst' in P.
'you' = 'thee' in P.
'you, made me first' = 'thy will made me' in P.

While the F use of 'your' seems more modern to us, and more colloquial, at the time Wroth wrote, the distinction between 'your' and 'thy' or 'you' and 'thou' was mostly to do with rank and status. So 'you' is appropriate as an address to one's superior, 'thou' is a more familiar usage and would normally be used for one's inferior - although these are not hard and fast rules. So the change from the 'your' of F to 'thy' of P could be either authorial or the work of the typesetter of P, and could in either case indicate a notion that this sonnet should be consistent and not move from 'thy' to 'your', or it could be reconceptualizing the relationship between Pamphilia and Cupid and making it more casual as the speaker offers the teasing soubriquet 'sir God' and the demeaning 'boyship'.
7

Loue leaue to vrge, thou knoweſt thou haſt the hand
    'Tis Cowardize to ſtriue where none reſiſt,
    Pray thee leaue of, I yeeld vnto thy band,
    Doe not thus ſtill in thine owne power perſiſt.

Behold, I yeeld; let forces be diſmiſt,
    I am thy Subiect conquer'd bound to ſtand
    Neuer thy foe, but did thy claime aſſiſt,
    Seeking thy due of thoſe who did withſtand.

But now it ſeemes thou would'ſt I ſhould thee loue,
    I doe confeſſe, 'twas thy will made mee chooſe,
    And thy faire ſhewes made me a Louer proue,
    When I my freedome did for paine refuſe.

Yet this, Sir god, your Boy-ſhip I deſpiſe,
Your charmes I obey, but loue not want of eyes.
7.

Love leave to urge, thou know'st thou hast the hand;
    'T'is cowardice to strive where none resist:
    Pray thee leave off, I yield unto thy band;
    Do not thus, still, in thine own power persist,

Behold I yield: let forces be dismissed;
    I am thy subject conquered, bound to stand,
    Never thy foe, but did thy claim assist
    Seeking thy due of those who did withstand;

Butt now, it seems, thou wouldst I should thee love;
    I do confess, t'was thy will made me choose;
    And thy faire shows made me a lover prove
    When I my freedom did, for pain refuse

Yet this Sir God, your boyship I despise;
    Your charms I obey, but love not want of eyes.


F9 F9mod P9 P9mod

.8.

Led by the powre of griefe, to waylings brought
    by faulce conſiete of change fall'ne on my part,
    I ſeeke for ſome ſmale eaſe by lines, wch bought,
    increaſeth paine; griefe is nott cur'd by art:

Ah! how vnkindnes moues wt in the hart
    wch still is true, and free from changing thought
    What vnknowne woe itt breeds; what endles ſmart
    wth ceaſles teares wch cauſeleſsly ar brought.

Itt makes mee now to shunn all shining light,
    and ſeeke for blackest clouds mee light to giue,
    wch to all others, only darknes driue,
    they on mee shine, for ſunn diſdaines my ſight

Yett though I darke do liue I triumph may
Vnkindnes, nor this wrong shall loue allay

8.

Led by the power of grief, to wailings brought
    By false conceit of change fallen on my part,
    I seek for some small ease by lines, which bought,
    Increaseth* pain; grief is not cured by art:

Ah! how unkindness moves within the heart
    Which still is true, and free from changing thought
    What unknown woe it breeds; what endless smart
    With ceaseless tears which causelessly are brought*.

It makes me now to shun all shining light,
    And seek for blackest clouds me light to give,
    Which to all others, only darkness drive,
    They on me shine, for sun disdains my sight

Yet though I dark do live I triumph may
    Unkindness, nor this wrong shall love allay.


'increaseth' = 'increase the' in P.
'are brought' = 'are wrought' in P.

The power of grief features in a number of AS sonnets; for example, in 93: 'What sobs can give words grace my grief to show?'.
8.

Ledd by the power of griefe to wailings brought,
    By falſe conceit of change fallen on my part;
    I ſeeke for ſome ſmale eaſe by lines which bought,
    Increaſe the paine; griefe is not cur'd by Art.

Ah! how vnkindneſſe moues within the heart,
    Which ſtill is true and free from changing thought:
    What vnknowne woe it breeds, what endleſſe ſmart,
    With ceaſleſſe teares which cauſeleſly are wrought.

It makes me now to ſhun all ſhining light,
    And ſeeke for blackeſt clouds me light to giue:
    Which to all others onely darkneſſe driue;
    They on me ſhine, for Sunne diſdaines my ſight.

Yet though I darke doe liue, I triumph may,
Vnkindnes, nor this wrong ſhall loue allay.
8.

Led by the power of grief, to wailings brought
    By false conceit of change fallen on my part,
    I seek for some small ease by lines, which bought,
    Increase the pain; grief is not cured by art:

Ah! how unkindness moves within the heart
    Which still is true, and free from changing thought
    What unknown woe it breeds; what endless smart
    With ceaseless tears which causelessly are wrought.

It makes me now to shun all shining light,
    And seek for blackest clouds me light to give,
    Which to all others, only darkness drive,
    They on me shine, for sun disdains my sight

Yet though I dark do live I triumph may;
    Unkindness, nor this wrong, shall love allay.


F10 F10mod P10 P10mod

.9.

Bee you all pleaſ'd? your pleaſures grieue nott mee;
    Doe you delight? I enuy nott your ioy;
    haue you content? contentment wt you bee:
    hope you for bliſs? hope still, and still inioye:

Lett ſad miſfortune; haples mee destroy,
    leaue croſses to rule mee, and still rule free,
    While all delights theyr contrairies imploy
    to keepe good back, and I butt torments ſee,

Ioyes are beereau'd, and harmes doe only tarry;
    dispaire takes place, diſdaine hath gott the hand;
    yett firme loue holds my ſences in ſuch band
    as ſince dispiſed, I, wt ſorrow marry;

Then if wth griefe I now must coupled bee
Sorrow Ile wed: Dispaire thus gouerns mee

9.

Be you all pleased? Your pleasures grieve not me;
    Do you delight? I envy not your joy;
    Have you content? Contentment with you be:
    Hope you for bliss? Hope still, and still enjoy:
    Let sad misfortune hapless me destroy,
    Leave crosses to rule me, and still rule free,
    While all delights their contraries employ
    To keep good back, and I but torments see,

Joys are bereaved, and harms* do only tarry;
    Despair takes place, disdain hath got the hand;
    Yet firm love holds my senses in such band
    As since despised, I, with sorrow marry;

Then if with grief I now must coupled be
    Sorrow I'll wed: despair thus governs me.


Roberts [P10] notes a parallel in AS 100, which ends: 'All mirth farewell, let me in sorrow live'.

'are bereaved and harms' = 'bereaved me, harms' in P.
9.

Bee you all pleas'd, your pleaſures grieue not me;
    Doe you delight? I enuy not your ioy:
    Haue you content? contentment with you be;
    Hope you for bliſſe? hope ſtill, and ſtill enioy.

Let ſad misfortune, hapleſſe me deſtroy,
    Leaue croſſes to rule me, and ſtill rule free:
    While all delights their contraries imploy,
    To keepe good backe, and I but torments ſee.

Ioyes are bereau'd me, harmes doe only tarry,
    Deſpaire takes place, diſdaine hath got the hand:
    Yet firme loue holds my ſenſes in ſuch band,
    As (ſince deſpiſed) I with ſorrow marry.

Then if with griefe I now muſt coupled bee,
Sorrow Ile wed; Deſpaire thus gouernes mee.
p.

Be you all pleased? Your pleasures grieve not me;
    Do you delight? I envy not your joy;
    Have you content? Contentment with you be:
    Hope you for bliss? Hope still, and still enjoy:

Let sad misfortune hapless me destroy,
    Leave crosses to rule me, and still rule free,
    While all delights their contraries employ
    To keep good back, and I but torments see,

Joys are bereaved me, harms do only tarry;
    Despair takes place, disdain hath got the hand;
    Yet firm love holds my senses in such band
    As since despised, I, with sorrow marry;

Then if with grief I now must coupled be
    Sorrow I'll wed: despair thus governs me.


F11 F11mod P11 P11mod

.10.

The weary traueller who tired ſought
    In places distant farr, yett found noe end
    of paine, or labour, nor his state to mend,
    att last wt ioy is to his home back brought;

Finds nott more eaſe, though hee wth ioy bee fraught;
    when past is feare, content like ſoules aſsend;
    then I, on whom new pleaſures doe deſsend.
    wch now as high as first borne bliſs is wrought;

Hee tired wt his paines, I, wt my mind;
    hee all content receaues by eaſe of limms;
    I, greatest hapines that I doe find
    beeleefe for fayth, while hope in pleaſure ſwimms;

Truth ſays t'was wrong conſeite bred my deſpite
wch once acknowledg'd, brings my harts delight;

10.

The weary traveller who tired sought
    In places distant far, yet found no end
    Of pain, or labour, nor his state to mend,
    At last with joy is to his home back brought,

Finds not more ease, though he with joy be fraught,
    When past is* fear, content like souls ascend,
    Than I, on whom new pleasures do descend,
    Which now as high as first-born bliss is wrought;

He tired with his pains, I, with my mind;
    He all content receives by ease of limbs;
    I, greatest happiness that I do find
    Belief for faith, while hope in pleasure swims;

Truth says* 'twas wrong conceit bred my despite
    Which once acknowledged, brings my heart's delight.


'is' = 'his' in P
'says' = 'saith' in P
10.

The weary Traueller, who tyred, ſought
    In places diſtant farre, yet found no end
    Of paine or labour, nor his ſtate to mend:
    At laſt with ioy is to his home backe brought.

Findes not more eaſe though he with ioy be fraught,
    When paſt his feare content like ſoules aſcend:
    Then I, on whom new pleaſures doe deſcend,
    Which now as high as firſt-borne bliſſe is wrought.

He tyred with his paines, I with my minde;
    He all content receiues by eaſe of lymbs:
    I, greateſt happineſſe that I doe finde,
    Beliefe for faith, while hope in pleaſure ſwimmes.

Truth saith 'twas wrong conceit bred my deſpight,
Which once acknowledg'd, brings my hearts delight.
10.

The weary traveller who tired sought
    In places distant far, yet found no end
    Of pain, or labour, nor his state to mend,
    At last with joy is to his home back brought,

Finds not more ease, though he with joy be fraught,
    When past his fear, content like souls ascend,
    Than I, on whom new pleasures do descend,
    which now as high as first-born bliss is wrought;

He tired with his pains, I, with my mind;
    He all content receives by ease of limbs;
    I, greatest happiness that I do find
    Belief for faith, while hope in pleasure swims;

Truth saith 'twas wrong conceit bred my despite
    Which once acknowledged, brings my heart's delight.


F12 F12mod P12 P12mod

.11.

You endleſs torments that my rest opreſs
    how long will you delight in my ſad paine?
    will neuer loue yor fauour more expreſs?
    shall I still liue, and euer feele diſdaine?

Alaſs now stay, and lett my griefe obtaine
    ſome end; feede nott my hart wth sharpe distreſs:
    lett mee once ſee my cruell fortunes gaine
    att last releaſe, and long felt woes redreſs;

Lett nott the blame of cruelty diſgrace
    the honor'd title of your Godhed, Loue:
    giue nott iust cauſe for mee to ſay a place
    is found for rage alone on mee to moue;

O quickly end, and doe nott long debate
my needfull ayde least help do come to late;

11.

You endless torments that my rest oppress
    How long will you delight in my sad pain?
    Will never love your favour more express?
    Shall I still live, and ever feel disdain?

Alas now stay, and let my grief obtain
    Some end; feed not my heart with sharp distress:
    Let me once see my cruel fortunes gain
    At least* release, and long felt woes redress;

Let not the blame of cruelty disgrace
    The honoured title of your Godhead, Love:
    Give not just cause for me to* say a place
    Is found for rage alone on me to move;

O quickly end, and do not long debate
    My needful aid least help do come too late.


'least': looks a bit like 'last' in F, but 'least' in P. Both 'least' and 'last' release make sense.
'to' = 'so' in P
11.

You endleſſe torments that my reſt oppreſſe,
    How long will you delight in my ſad paine?
    Will neuer Loue your fauour more expreſſe?
    Shall I ſtill liue, and euer feele diſdaine?

Alaſſe now ſtay, and let my griefe optaine
    Some end; feede not my heart with ſharpe diſtreſſe:
    Let me once ſee my cruell fortunes gaine,
    At leaſt releaſe, and long-felt woes redreſſe.

Let not the blame of cruelty diſgrace
    The honour'd title of your god-head Loue;
    Giue not iuſt cauſe for me ſo ſay, a place
    Is found for rage alone on me to moue.

O quickly end, and doe not long debate
My needfull ayd, leſt helpe doe come too late.
11.

You endless torments that my rest oppress
    How long will you delight in my sad pain?
    Will never love your favour more express?
    Shall I still live, and ever feel disdain?

Alas now stay, and let my grief obtain
    Some end; feed not my heart with sharp distress:
    Let me once see my cruel fortunes gain
    At least release, and long felt woes redress;

Let not the blame of cruelty disgrace
    The honoured title of your Godhead, Love:
    Give not just cause for me so* say a place
    Is found for rage alone on me to move;

O quickly end, and do not long debate
    My needful aid least help do come too late.


'so' = 'to' in F: a clear transcription error.

F13 F13mod P13 P13mod

.12.

Cloy'd wth the torments of a tedious night
    I wish for day; wch come, I hope for ioy:
    When croſs I finde new tortures to destroy
    my woe=kil'd hart, first hurt by miſchiefs might,

Then cry for night, and once more day takes flight
    and brightnes gon; what rest should heere inioy
    Vſurped is; hate will her force imploy;
    Night can nott griefe intombe though black as spite

My thoughts are ſad; her face as ſad doth ſeeme:
    My paines are long; Her houers tædious are:
    My griefe is great, and endles is my care:
    Her face, her force, and all of woes esteeme:

Then wellcome Night, and farwell flattring day
wch all hopes breed, and yett our ioyes delay;

12.

Cloyed with the torments of a tedious night
    I wish for day; which come, I hope for joy:
    When cross I find new tortures to destroy
    My woe-killed heart, first hurt by mischief's might,

Then cry for night, and once more day takes flight
    And brightness gone; what rest should here enjoy
    Usurped is; hate will her force employ;
    Night cannot grief entomb though black as spite

My thoughts are sad; her face as sad doth seem:
    My pains are long; her hours tedious are:
    My grief is great, and endless is my care:
    Her face, her force, and all of woes esteem:

Then welcome Night, and farewell flattering day
    Which all hopes breed, and yet our joys delay.


For parallels see AS 89: 'Now that of absence the most irksome night/
With darkest shade doth overcome my day'; RS 19: 'When other creatures all, each in their kind,/Comfort of light, quiet from darkness fetch'. Roberts [P13] also notes Spenser, Amoretti 87, which includes the lines: 'I wish that night the noyous day would end:/
and when as night hath us of light forlorn,/ I wish that day would shortly reascend.'
12.

Cloy'd with the torments of a tedious night,
    I wiſh for day; which come, I hope for ioy:
    When croſſe I finde, new tortures to deſtroy,
    My woe-kild heart, firſt hurt by miſchiefs might.

Then crye for night, and once more day takes flight.
    And brightneſſe gone, what reſt ſhould heere inioy
    Vſurped is: Hate will her force imploy;
    Night cannot Griefe intombe though blacke as ſpite.

My thoughts are ſad, her face as ſad doth ſeeme;
    My paines are long, her howers tedious are;
    My griefe is great, and endleſſe is my care;
    Her face, her force, and all of woes eſteeme.

Then welcome Night, and farewell flattering day,
Which all hopes breed, and yet our ioyes delay.
12.

Cloyed with the torments of a tedious night
    I wish for day; which come, I hope for joy:
    When cross I find new tortures to destroy
    My woe-killed heart, first hurt by mischief's might,

Then cry for night, and once more day takes flight
    And brightness gone; what rest should here enjoy
    Usurped is; hate will her force employ;
    Night cannot grief entomb though black as spite

My thoughts are sad; her face as sad doth seem:
    My pains are long; her hours tedious are:
    My grief is great, and endless is my care:
    Her face, her force, and all of woes esteem:

Then welcome Night, and farewell flattering day
    Which all hopes breed, and yet our joys delay.


F14 F14mod P14 P14mod

.Song 2.

All night I weepe, all day I cry, Ay mee;
I still doe wish though yett deny, Ay mee;
I ſigh, I mourne, and ſay that still
I only ame the store for ill, Ay mee;

In coldest hopes I freeze, yett burne Ay mee;
From flames I striue to fly, yett turne Ay me;
From griefe I haste butt ſorrowes hy,
and on my hart all woes doe ly Ay mee;

From contraries I ſeeke to runn Ay mee;
butt contraries I can nott shunn Ay mee;
For they delight theyr force to try,
and to despaire my thoughts doe ty Ay mee;

Whether (alaſs) then shall I goe Ay mee;
when as dispaire all hopes outgoe Ay mee;
Iff to the Forest, Cupid hyes,
and my poore ſoule to his lawe ties Ay mee;

To the 'Court'. O no. Hee crys fy Ay mee;
ther no true loue you shall espy Ay mee;
Leaue that place to faulſcest louers
yor true loue all truth diſcouers Ay mee;

Then quiett rest, and noe more proue Ay mee;
All places ar alike to loue Ay mee;
And constant bee in this beegunn
Yett ſay, till lyfe wt loue be dunn Ay mee;

Song 2.

All night I weep, all day I cry, Ay me;
    I still doe wish though yet deny, Ay me;
    I sigh, I mourn, and* say that still
    I only am the store for ill, Ay me;

In coldest hopes I freeze, yet burn, Ay me;
    From flames I strive to fly, yet turn, Ay me;
    From grief I haste but sorrows hie,
    And on my heart all woes do lie, Ay me;

From contraries I seek to run, Ay me;
    But contraries I cannot shun, Ay me;
    For they delight their force to try,
    And to despair my thoughts do tie, Ay me;

Whither (alas) then shall I go, Ay me;
    When as despair all hopes outgo, Ay me;
    If to the Forest, Cupid hies,
    And my poor soul to his law ties, Ay me;

To the Court? O no. He cries fie, Ay me;
    there no true love you shall espy, Ay me;
    Leave that place to falsest lovers
    your true love all truth discovers, Ay me;

Then quiet rest, and no more prove, Ay me;
    All places are alike to love, Ay me;
    And constant be in this begun
    Yet say, till life with love be done, Ay me.


'and' = 'I' in P

This song is, as Roberts [P14] notes, the only example of Wroth's poetry to be reproduced (in a much shorter version) in print in the seventeenth century, in Wit's Recreations (1645).
Song. 2.

All Night I weepe, all Day I cry, Ay me,
I ſtill doe wiſh, though yet deny, ay me:
I ſigh, I mourne, I ſay that ſtill,
I only am the ſtore for ill, ay me.

In coldeſt hopes I freeze, yet burne, ay me,
From flames I ſtriue to flye, yet turne, ay me:
From griefe I haſt, but ſorrowes hye,
And on my heart all woes doe lye, ay me.

From contraries I ſeeke to run, ay me,
But contraries I cannot ſhun, ay me:
For they delight their force to trye,
And to Deſpaire my thoughts doe tye, ay me.

Whither alaſſe then ſhall I goe, ay me,
When as Deſpaire all hopes outgoe, ay me:
If to the Forreſt Cupid hies,
And my poore ſoule to his law tyes, ay me.

To the Court: O no, he cryes fye, ay me,
There no true loue you ſhall eſpye, ay me:
Leaue that place to falſeſt Louers,
Your true loue all truth diſcouers, ay me,

Then quiet reſt, and no more proue, ay me,
All places are alike to Loue, ay me:
And conſtant be in this begun,
Yet ſay, till Life with Loue be done, Ay me.
Song 2.

All night I weep, all day I cry, Ay me;
    I still doe wish though yet deny, Ay me;
    I sigh, I mourn, I say that still
    I only am the store for ill, Ay me;

In coldest hopes I freeze, yet burn, Ay me;
    From flames I strive to fly, yet turn, Ay me;
    From grief I haste but sorrows hie,
    And on my heart all woes do lie, Ay me;

From contraries I seek to run, Ay me;
    But contraries I cannot shun, Ay me;
    For they delight their force to try,
    And to despair my thoughts do tie, Ay me;

Whither (alas) then shall I go, Ay me;
    When as despair all hopes outgo, Ay me;
    If to the Forest, Cupid hies,
    And my poor soul to his law ties, Ay me;

To the Court? O no. He cries fie, Ay me;
    There no true love you shall espy, Ay me;
    Leave that place to falsest lovers
    Your true love all truth discovers, Ay me;

Then quiet rest, and no more prove, Ay me;
    All places are alike to love, Ay me;
    And constant be in this begun
    Yet say, till life with love be done, Ay me.


F15 F15mod P15 P15mod

.13.

Deare famish nott what you your ſelf gaue food,
    destroy nott what your glory is to ſaue;
    kill nott that ſoule to wch you spiritt gaue;
    In pitty, nott diſdaine your triumph stood;

An eaſy thing itt is to shed the blood
    of one, who att your will, yeelds to the graue;
    butt more you may true worthe by mercy craue
    when you preſerue, nott spoyle, butt nurrish good;

Your ſight is all the food I doe deſire;
    then ſacrifies mee nott in hidden fire,
    Or stop that breath wch did your prayſes moue:

Think butt how eaſy t'is a ſight to giue;
    nay eu'n deſerte; ſince by itt I doe liue,
    I butt Camælion=like would liue, and loue;

13.

Dear, famish not what you yourself gave food,
    Destroy not what your glory is to save;
    Kill not that soul to which you spirit gave;
    In pity, not disdain your triumph stood;

An easy thing it is to shed the blood
    Of one, who at your will, yields to the grave;
    But more you may true worth by mercy crave
    When you preserve, not spoil, but nourish good;

Your sight is all the food I doe desire;
    Then sacrifice me not in hidden fire,
    Or stop that* breath which did your praises move:

Think butt how easy 'tis a sight to give;
    Nay even desert; since by it I doe live,
    I but Chameleon-like would live, and love.


'that' = 'the' in P

The associations of food with love and desire are legion, but in particular Wroth may allude to a famous line from AS 71: 'But, ah, Desire still cries, Give me some food'.
13.

Deare famiſh not what you your ſelfe gaue foode,
    Deſtroy not what your glory is to ſaue:
    Kill not that ſoule to which you ſpirit gaue,
    In pitty, not diſdaine, your triumph ſtood.

An eaſie thing it is to ſhed the bloud
    Of one who at your will yeelds to the graue:
    But more you may true worth by mercy craue,
    When you preſerue, not ſpoyle, but nouriſh good.

Your ſight is all the food I doe deſire,
    Then ſacrifice me not in hidden fire,
    Or ſtop the breath which did your praiſes moue.

Thinke but how eaſie 'tis a ſight to giue,
    Nay, euen deſert, ſince by it I doe liue,
    I but Camelion-like, would liue, and loue.
13.

Dear, famish not what you yourself gave food,
    Destroy not what your glory is to save;
    Kill not that soul to which you spirit gave;
    In pity, not disdain your triumph stood;

An easy thing it is to shed the blood
    Of one, who at your will, yields to the grave;
    But more you may true worth by mercy crave
    When you preserve, not spoil, but nourish good;

Your sight is all the food I doe desire;
    Then sacrifice me not in hidden fire,
    Or stop the breath which did your praises move:

Think butt how easy 'tis a sight to give;
    Nay even desert; since by it I doe live,
    I but Chameleon-like would live, and love.


F16 F16mod P16 P16mod

.14.

Am I thus conquer'd? haue I lost the powers
    that to wthstand, wch ioy's to ruin mee?
    must I bee still while itt my strength deuowres.
    and captiue leads mee priſoner, bound, vnfree?

Loue first shall leaue mens phant'ſies to them free,
    deſire shall quench loues flames, spring hate ſweet showres,
    Cupid shall looſe his darts, haue ſight, and ſee
    his shame, and Venus hinder happy howres;

Why should wee nott loues purblinde charmes reſist?
    muſt wee bee ſeruile, doing what hee list?
    Noe, ſeeke ſome hoste to harbour thee: I fly

Thy babish trickes, and freedome doe profeſs;
    butt ô my hurt, makes my lost hart confeſs
    I loue, and must: So farwell liberty;

14.

Am I thus conquered? Have I lost the powers
    That to withstand, which joys to ruin me?
    Must I bee still while it my strength devours.
    And captive, leads me prisoner, bound, unfree?

Love first shall leave* men's fancies to them free,
    Desire shall quench love's flames, spring hate sweet showers,
    Cupid shall lose his darts,* have sight, and see
    His shame, and Venus hinder happy hours;

Why should wee not love's purblind charms resist?
    Must we be servile, doing what he list?
    No; seek some host to harbour thee: I fly

Thy babyish tricks, and freedom do profess;
    But O my hurt makes my lost heart confess
    I love, and must: so farewell liberty.


Again this sonnet elaborates on Wroth's theme of resistance/captivity to the power of desire, and uses a personified Cupid as the representative of the war Pamphilia is fighting to maintain her autonomy.

'leave' = lean' in P: clearly a transcription error.

'Cupid shall lose his darts' = 'Love shall loose all his darts' in P: F seems a stronger idea, with Cupid gaining sight as well as losing his darts, but this could also be an authorial revision.
14.

Am I thus conquer'd? haue I loſt the powers,
    That to withſtand which ioyes to ruine me?
    Muſt I bee ſtill, while it my ſtrength deuoures,
    And captiue leads me priſoner bound, vnfree?

Loue firſt ſhall leane mens fant'ſies to them free,
    Deſire ſhall quench loues flames, Spring, hate ſweet ſhowres;
    Loue ſhall looſe all his Darts, haue ſight, and ſee
    His ſhame and wiſhings, hinder happy houres.

Why ſhould we not Loues purblinde charmes reſiſt?
    Muſt we be ſeruile, doing what he liſt?
    No, ſeeke ſome hoſt to harbour thee: I flye

Thy Babiſh tricks, and freedome doe profeſſe;
    But O, my hurt makes my loſt heart confeſſe:
    I loue, and muſt; ſo farewell liberty.
14.

Am I thus conquered? Have I lost the powers
    That to withstand, which joys to ruin me?
    Must I bee still while it my strength devours.
    And captive, leads me prisoner, bound, unfree?

Love first shall lean men's fancies to them free,
    Desire shall quench love's flames, spring hate sweet showers,
    Love shall loose all his darts, have sight, and see
    His shame, and Venus hinder happy hours;

Why should wee not love's purblind charms resist?
    Must we be servile, doing what he list?
    No; seek some host to harbour thee: I fly

Thy babyish tricks, and freedom do profess;
    But O my hurt makes my lost heart confess
    I love, and must: so farewell liberty.


F17 F17mod P64 P64mod

.15.

Loue like a jugler, comes to play his priſe,
    and all minds draw his wonders to admire,
    to ſee how cuningly hee, wanting eyes,
    can yett deſeaue the best ſight of deſire:

The wanton child, how hee can faine his fire
    ſo pretely, as none ſees his diſguiſe;
    how finely doe his tricks, while wee fooles hire
    the image maske, and ſeruice of his tirannies,

For in the end, ſuch iugling doth hee make
    as hee our harts, in stead of eyes doth take
    for men can only by theyr slieghts abuſe

The ſight wth nimble, and delightfull skill;
    butt if hee play, his gaine is our lost will:
    yett childlike, wee can nott his sports refuſe;

15.

Love like a juggler, comes to play his prize,
    And all minds draw* his wonders to admire,
    To see how cunningly he, wanting eyes,
    Can yet deceive the best sight of desire:

The wanton child, how he can fain his fire
    So prettily, as none sees his disguise;
    How finely do his tricks, while we fools hire
    The mask* and service* of his tyrannies,

For in the end, such juggling doth he* make
    As he our hearts, in stead of eyes doth take
    For men can only by their sleights abuse

The sight with nimble, and delightful skill;
    But if he play, his gain is our lost will:
    Yet childlike, we cannot his sports refuse.


In P this sonnet is moved to the sequence that begins on fol. 29 after Song 'Fairest and truest eyes'.

'all minds draw': the sense here is of people drawing near to a trickster (ie juggler) who will trick them with sleight of hand tricks.

'mask' = 'image' in P; in F 'image' is crossed out and 'maske' written above it.
'service' = 'office' in P.
'doth he' = 'he doth' in P.
2.

Loue like a Iugler comes to play his prize,
    And all mindes draw his wonders to admire,
    To ſee how cunningly he (wanting eyes)
    Can yet deceiue the beſt ſight of deſire.

The wanton Childe, how he can faine his fire
    So prettily, as none ſees his diſguiſe,
    How finely doe his trickes; while we fooles hire
    The badge, and office of his tyrannies.

For in the ende ſuch Iugling he doth make,
    As he our hearts inſtead of eyes doth take;
    For men can onely by their ſlights abuſe,

The ſight with nimble, and delightfull skill,
    But if he play, his gaine is our loſt will,
    Yet Child-like we cannot his ſports refuſe.
Sonnet 2.

Love like a juggler, comes to play his prize,
    And all minds draw his wonders to admire,
    To see how cunningly he, wanting eyes,
    Can yet deceive the best sight of desire:

The wanton child, how he can fain his fire
    So prettily, as none sees his disguise;
    How finely do his tricks, while we fools hire
    The badge and office of his tyrannies,

For in the end, such juggling he doth make
    As he our hearts, in stead of eyes doth take
    For men can only by their sleights abuse

The sight with nimble, and delightful skill;
    But if he play, his gain is our lost will:
    Yet childlike, we cannot his sports refuse.


F18 F18mod P68 P68mod

.16.

My paine, still ſmother'd in my grieued brest,
    ſeekes for ſome eaſe, yett cannott paſsage finde
    to bee diſcharg'd of this vnwellcome ghest;
    when most I striue, more fast his burdens bind,

Like to a ship, on Goodwines cast by wind
    the more she striues, more deepe in ſand is prest
    till she bee lost; ſo am I, in this kind
    ſunk, and deuour'd, and ſwallow'd by vnrest,

Lost, shipwrack't, spoyl'd, debar'd of ſmallest hope
    nothing of pleaſure left; ſaue thought's haue ſcope,
    wch wander may: Goe then, my thoughts, and cry

Hope's perish'd; Loue tempest=beaten; Ioy lost
    killing dispaire hath all thes bleſsing crost
    yett faith still cries, Loue will nott falsefy.

F16

My pain, still smothered in my grieved breast,
    Seeks for some ease, yet cannot passage find
    To be discharged of this unwelcome guest;
    When most I strive, more fast his burdens bind,

Like to a ship, on Goodwins* cast by wind
    The more she strives,* more deep in sand is pressed
    Till she bee lost; so am I, in this kind
    Sunk, and devoured, and swallowed by unrest,

Lost, shipwrecked, spoiled, debarred of smallest hope,
    Nothing of pleasure left; save thoughts have scope,
    Which wander may: Go then, my thoughts, and cry

'Hope's perished; Love tempest-beaten; joy lost
    Killing despair hath all these blessing* crossed.'
    Yet faith still cries, 'Love will not falsify.'


Moved to fol. 31 in P, as sonnet 6.

The central image of the shipwrecked lover was popular with sonnet-writers. Petrarch's sonnet 189 was famously adapted by Wyatt: 'My galley, charged with forgetfulness,/Through sharp seas in winter nights doth pass'. Roberts' notes [P68] parallels with RS 22 ('my wrack of rest') and 23 ('If perished bark on shore by tempest cast').

'Goodwins': Goodwin Sands, on the Kent Coast, is still renowned as hazardous to shipping.
'strives' = 'strive' in P
'blessing' = 'blessings' in P.
6.

My paine ſtill ſmother'd in my grieued breſt,
    Seekes for ſome eaſe, yet cannot paſſage finde,
    To be diſchargd of this vnwelcome gueſt,
    When moſt I ſtriue, more faſt his burthens binde.

Like to a Ship on Goodwins caſt by winde,
    The more ſhee ſtriue, more deepe in Sand is preſt,
    Till ſhe be loſt: ſo am I in this kind
    Sunck, and deuour'd, and ſwallow'd by vnreſt.

Loſt, ſhipwrackt, ſpoyld, debar'd of ſmalleſt hope,
    Nothing of pleaſure left, ſaue thoughts haue ſcope,
    Which wander may; goe then my thoughts and cry:

Hope's periſh'd, Loue tempeſt-beaten, Ioy loſt,
    Killing Deſpaire hath all theſe bleſſings croſt;
    Yet Faith ſtill cries, Loue will not falſifie.
Sonnet 6

My pain, still smothered in my grieved breast,
    Seeks for some ease, yet cannot passage find
    To be discharged of this unwelcome guest;
    When most I strive, more fast his burdens bind,

Like to a ship, on Goodwins cast by wind
    The more she strives, more deep in sand is pressed
    Till she bee lost; so am I, in this kind
    Sunk, and devoured, and swallowed by unrest,

Lost, shipwrecked, spoiled, debarred of smallest hope,
    Nothing of pleasure left; save thoughts have scope,
    Which wander may: Go then, my thoughts, and cry

'Hope's perished; Love tempest-beaten; joy lost
    Killing despair hath all these blessings crossed.'
    Yet faith still cries, 'Love will not falsify.'


F19 F19mod P70 P70mod

.17.

Poore Loue in chaines, and fetters, like a thiefe
    I mett led forthe, as chast Diana's gaine,
    vowing the vntaught Lad should noe reliefe
    from her receaue, who glory'd in fond paine.

She call'd him theife; wt vowes hee did maintaine
    hee neuer stole; butt ſome slight touch of griefe
    had giuen to thoſe who did his powre diſdaine,
    in wch reueng, his honor, was the chiefe:

She ſay'd hee murder'd, and therfor must dy;
    hee, that hee cauſ'd butt loue: did harmes deny
    butt, while she thus diſcourſing wt him stood

The Nimphs vnty'd him, and his chaines tooke of
    thinking him ſafe; butt hee, looſe, made a ſcofe
    ſmiling, and ſcorning them, flew to the wood.

17.

Poor Love in chains, and fetters, like a thief
    I met led forth, as chaste Diana's gain,*
    Vowing the untaught Lad should no relief
    From her receive, who gloried in fond pain.

She called him thief; with vows he did maintain
    He never stole; butt some slight touch* of grief
    Had given to those who did his power disdain,
    In which revenge, his honour, was the chief:

She said he murdered, and therefore must die;
    He, that he caused but love: did harms deny,
    But, while she thus discoursing with him stood

The Nymphs untied him, and his chains took off
    Thinking him safe; butt he, loose, made a scoff
    Smiling, and scorning them, flew to the wood.


Moved to fol. 32 in P as sonnet 8.[P70]

As Roberts [P70] notes, Love personified as a fugitive is common in sonnets that influenced Wroth. For example, AS 8: 'Love, borne in Greece, of late fled from his native place'; in Greville's Caelica 13 Love is captured by 'his foe Absence'.

'chaste Diana's gain': ie Diana, Goddess of chastity and the hunt, has captured Love/Cupid.
Slight touch' = 'sad slight' in P.
8.

Poore Loue in chaines, and fetters like a thiefe
    I met ledd forth, as chaſt Diana's gaine
    Vowing the vntaught Lad ſhould no reliefe
    From her receiue, who gloried in fond paine.

She call'd him thiefe, with vowes he did mainetaine
    He neuer ſtole, but ſome ſadd ſlight of griefe
    Had giuen to thoſe who did his power diſdaine,
    In which reuenge his honour was the chiefe.

Shee ſaid he murther'd and therefore muſt dye,
    He that he cauſ'd but Loue, did harmes deny,
    But while ſhe thus diſcourſing with him ſtood;

The Nymphes vnti'de him and his chaines tooke off,
    Thinking him ſafe; but he (looſe) made a ſcoffe,
    Smiling and ſcorning them, flew to the wood.
Sonnet 8.


Poor Love in chains, and fetters, like a thief
    I met led forth, as chaste Diana's gain,
    Vowing the untaught Lad should no relief
    From her receive, who gloried in fond pain.

She called him thief; with vows he did maintain
    He never stole; butt some sad slight of grief
    Had given to those who did his power disdain,
    In which revenge, his honour, was the chief:

She said he murdered, and therefore must die;
    He, that he caused but love: did harms deny,
    But, while she thus discoursing with him stood

The Nymphs untied him, and his chains took off
    Thinking him safe; but he, loose, made a scoff
    Smiling, and scorning them, flew to the wood.


F20 F20mod P20 P20mod

.18.

Wch should I better like of, day, or night
    ſince all the day I liue in bitter woe
    inioying light more cleere my wrongs to know,
    and yett most ſad, feeling in itt all spite;

In night, when darknes doth forbid all light
    yett ſee I griefe aparant to the show
    follow'd by iealouſie whoſe fond tricks flow,
    and on vnconſtant waues of doubt allight,

I can beehold rage cowardly to feede
    vpon foule error, wch thes humours breed,
    shame, doubt, and feare, yett boldly will thinke ill,

All thes in both I feele, then wch is best
    darke to ioy by day, light in night oprest
    Leaue both, and end, thes butt each other spill:

18.

Which should I better like of, day, or night,
    Since all the day I live in bitter woe
    Enjoying light more clear my wrongs to know,
    And yet most sad, feeling in it all spite;

In night, when darkness doth forbid all light
    Yet see I grief apparent to the show
    Followed by jealousy whose fond tricks flow,
    And on unconstant waves of doubt alight,

I can behold rage cowardly to feed
    Upon foul error, which these humours breed,
    Shame, doubt, and fear, yet boldly will think ill,

All these* in both I feel, then which is best:
    Dark to joy by day, light in night oppressed.
    Leave both, and end, these but each other spill.


The debate about day vs night may be compared to the theme of sight that runs through the poetry. This sonnet takes up the themes of [P13]. There are similar sets of images related to night in AS, for example sonnet 89:

    Now that of absence the most irksome night
    With darkest shade doth overcome my day;
    Since Stella's eyes, wont to give me my day,
    Leaving my hemisphere, leave me in night;
    Each day seems long, and longs for long-staid night;
    The night, as tedious, woos th' approach of day

'these' = 'those' in P.
18.

Which ſhould I better like of, day or night?
    Since all the day, I liue in bitter woe:
    Inioying light more cleere my wrongs to know,
    and yet moſt ſad, feeling in it all ſpite.

In night when darkneſſe doth forbid all light;
    Yet ſee I griefe apparant to the ſhow,
    Follow'd by iealouſie, whoſe fond tricks flow,
    And on vnconſtant waues of doubt alight.

I can behold rage cowardly to feede
    Vpon foule error, which theſe humors breede,
    Shame doubt and feare, yet boldly will thinke ill.

All thoſe in both I feele, then which is beſt
    Darke to ioy by day, light in night oppreſt?
    Leaue both and end, theſe but each other ſpill.
18.

Which should I better like of, day, or night,
    Since all the day I live in bitter woe
    Enjoying light more clear my wrongs to know,
    And yet most sad, feeling in it all spite;

In night, when darkness doth forbid all light
    Yet see I grief apparent to the show
    Followed by jealousy whose fond tricks flow,
    And on unconstant waves of doubt alight,

I can behold rage cowardly to feed
    Upon foul error, which these humours breed,
    Shame, doubt, and fear, yet boldly will think ill,

All those in both I feel, then which is best:
    Dark to joy by day, light in night oppressed.
    Leave both, and end, these but each other spill.


F21 F21mod P21 P21mod

Song 3.

Stay, my thoughts, do nott aſpire
    to Vaine hopes of high deſire:
    ſee you nott all meanes bereft
    to inioye? noe hope is left;
    yett still mee thinks my thoughts doe ſay
    ſome hopes do liue amid diſmay;

Hope, then once more hope for ioy;
    bury feare wch ioyes destroy;
    thought hath yett ſome comfort giu'ne,
    wch dispaire hath from vs driun;
    therfor deerly my thoughts cherish
    neuer lett ſuch thinking periſh;

'Tis an idle thing to plaine
    odder farr to dy for paine,
    thinke, and ſee how thoughts do riſe
    wiing wher ther noe hope lies:
    wch alone is louers treaſure
    For by thoughts wee loue doe meaſure:

Then kinde thought my phant'ſies guide
    lett mee neuer hopeles slide;
    still maintaine thy force in mee,
    lett my thinking, still bee free:
    nor leaue thy might vntill my death
    butt lett mee, thinking, yeeld vp breath

Song 3.

Stay, my thoughts, do not aspire
    To vain hopes of high desire:
    See you not all means bereft
    To enjoy? no hope* is left;
    Yet still methinks my thoughts do say
    Some hopes do live amid dismay;

Hope, then once more hope for joy;
    Bury fear which joys destroy;
    Thought hath yet some comfort given,
    Which despair hath from us driven;
    Therefore dearly my thoughts cherish
    Never let such thinking perish;

'Tis an idle thing to plain
    Odder far to die for pain,
    Think, and see how thoughts do rise
    Winning where there no hope lies:
    Which alone is lovers' treasure
    For by thoughts wee love do measure:

Then kind thought my fancies guide
    Let me never hopeless* slide;
    Still maintain thy force in me,
    Let my* thinking, still bee free:
    Nor leave thy might until my death
    But let me, thinking, yield up breath.


This song echoes (distantly) some RS songs, especially song 4:

    My soul in purest fire
    Doth not aspire
    To reward of my pain

'hope' = 'joy' in P
'hopeless' = 'hapless' in P
'my'='me' in P
Song. 3.

Stay my thoughts doe not aſpire,
To vaine hopes of high deſire;
See you not all meanes bereft,
To inioy no ioy is left,
Yet ſtill me thinkes my thoughts doe ſay,
Some hopes doe liue amid diſmay.

Hope then once more, Hope for ioy,
Bury feare which ioyes deſtroy,
Thought hath yet ſome comfort giuen,
Which deſpaire hath from vs driuen:
Therefore deerely my thoughts cheriſh,
Neuer let ſuch thinking periſh.

'Tis an idle thing to plaine,
Odder farre to dye for paine;
Thinke and ſee how thoughts doe riſe,
Winning where there no hope lies;
Which alone is louers treaſure,
For by thoughts we loue doe meaſure.

Then kinde thought my fant'ſie guide,
Let me neuer hapleſſe ſlide;
Still maintaine thy force in me,
Let me thinking ſtill be free;
Nor leaue thy might vntill my death,
But let me thinking yeeld vp breath.
Song 3.

Stay, my thoughts, do not aspire
    To vain hopes of high desire:
    See you not all means bereft
    To enjoy? no joy is left;
    Yet still methinks my thoughts do say
    Some hopes do live amid dismay;

Hope, then once more hope for joy;
    Bury fear which joys destroy;
    Thought hath yet some comfort given,
    Which despair hath from us driven;
    Therefore dearly my thoughts cherish
    Never let such thinking perish;

'Tis an idle thing to plain
    Odder far to die for pain,
    Think, and see how thoughts do rise
    Winning where there no hope lies:
    Which alone is lovers' treasure
    For by thoughts wee love do measure:

Then kind thought my fancies guide
    Let me never hapless slide;
    Still maintain thy force in me,
    Let me thinking,* still bee free:
    Nor leave thy might until my death
    But let me, thinking, yield up breath.


'me thinking' as this is changed from 'my thinking' in F, the repeat of the phrase 'me thinking' here and in the last line may be a deliberate emphasis or possibly a transcription error.

F22 F22mod P22 P22mod

.19.

Come darkest night, beecoming ſorrow best;
    light; leaue thy light; fitt for a lightſome ſoule;
    darknes doth truly ſute wt mee oprest
    whom abſence power doth from mirthe controle:

The very trees wt hanging heads condole
    ſweet ſommers parting, and of leaues distrest
    in dying coulers make a griefe=full role;
    ſoe much (alas) to ſorrow are they preſt

Thus of dead leaues her farewell carpett's made;
    theyr fall, theyr branches, all theyr mournings proue;
    wth leaules, naked bodies, whoſe hueſe vade
    from hopefull greene, to wither in theyr loue,

If trees, and leaues for abſence, mourners bee
Noe meruaile yt I grieue, who like want ſee

19.

Come darkest night, becoming sorrow best;
    Light, leave thy light; fit for a lightsome soul;
    Darkness doth truly suit with me oppressed,
    Whom absence power doth from mirth control:

The very trees with hanging heads condole
    Sweet summer's parting, and of leaves distressed
    In dying colours make a grief-full role;
    So much (alas) to sorrow are they pressed

Thus of dead leaves her farewell carpet's made;
    Their fall, their branches, all their mournings prove;
    With leafless, naked bodies, whose hues fade*
    From hopeful green, to wither in their love,

If trees, and leaves for absence, mourners be,
    No marvel that I grieve, who like want see.


'fade': Roberts [P22] glosses Wroth's original 'vade' as meaning decay or become weak, but 'fade' does seem the primary meaning here.

The mirroring of Pamphilia's emotions by the seasons is a commonplace, but it is worth noting RS sonnet 31: 'Forsaken woods, trees with sharp storms oppressed,/Whose leaves once hid the sun, now strew the ground'.
19.

Come darkeſt Night, becomming ſorrow beſt,
    Light leaue thy light, fit for a lightſome ſoule:
    Darkneſſe doth truely ſute with me oppreſt,
    Whom abſence power doth from mirth controule.

The very trees with hanging heads condole
    Sweet Summers parting, and of leaues diſtreſt,
    In dying colours make a grief-full role;
    So much (alas) to ſorrow are they preſt.

Thus of dead leaues, her farewell carpets made,
    Their fall, their branches, all their mournings proue,
    With leauleſſe naked bodies, whoſe hues vade
    From hopefull greene to wither in their loue.

If trees, and leaues for abſence mourners be,
No maruell that I grieue, who like want ſee.
19.

Come darkest night, becoming sorrow best;
    Light, leave thy light; fit for a lightsome soul;
    Darkness doth truly suit with me oppressed,
    Whom absence power doth from mirth control:

The very trees with hanging heads condole
    Sweet summer's parting, and of leaves distressed
    In dying colours make a grief-full role;
    So much (alas) to sorrow are they pressed

Thus of dead leaves her farewell carpet's made;
    Their fall, their branches, all their mournings prove;
    With leafless, naked bodies, whose hues fade
    From hopeful green, to wither in their love,

If trees, and leaves for absence, mourners be,
    No marvel that I grieve, who like want see.


F23 F23mod P23 P23mod

.20.

The Sunn wch glads, the earth att his bright ſight
    When in the morne hee showes his golden face,
    and takes the place from tædious drowſy night
    making the world still happy by his grace;

Shewes hapines remaines nott in one place,
    nor may the heauens, alone to vs giue light,
    butt hide that cheerfull face, though noe long space,
    yett long enough for triall of theyr might;

Butt neuer ſunn=ſett could bee ſoe obſcure
    no deſart euer haue a shade ſoe ſadd,
    nor could black darknes euer proue ſoe badd
    as paines wch abſence makes mee now indure;

The miſsing of the ſunn awhile makes night
butt abſence of my ioy ſees neuer Light

20.

The Sun which glads the earth at his bright sight
    When in the morn he shows his golden face,
    And takes the place from tedious drowsy night
    Making the world still happy by* his grace;

Shows happiness remains not in one place,
    Nor may the heavens, alone to us give light,
    But hide that cheerful face, though no long space,
    Yet long enough for trial of their might;

But never sunset could be so obscure
    No desert ever have* a shade so sad,
    Nor could black darkness ever prove se bad
    As pains which absence makes me now endure;

The missing of the sun awhile makes night,
    But absence of my joy sees never Light.


Roberts [P23] notes a range of parallel uses of the sun/night/absence images, including AS 91:

    I am from you, light of my life, misled,
    And whiles, fair you, my sun, thus overspread
    With Absence veil, I live in Sorrow's night;

See also AS 96:

    Thought, with good cause thou lik'st so well the night,
    Since kind or chance gives both one livery,
    Both sadly black, both blackly darkened be;
    Night barred from Sun, thou from thy own sunlight;

See also RS 30:

    Absence, I cannot say thou hid'st my light
     Not darkened, but for ay set is my sun

But in Wroth's case this sonnet becomes more complex when compared with 22 [P25], 'Like to the Indians', which gives the sun a more ambiguous character.

'by' = 'in' in P
'have' = 'had' in P
20.

The Sunne which glads the earth at his bright ſight,
    When in the morne he ſhowes his golden face,
    And takes the place from tedious drowſie Night.
    Making the world ſtill happy in his grace.

Shewes happineſſe remaines not in one place,
    Nor may the Heauens alone to vs giue light,
    But hide that cheerefull face, though no long ſpace,
    Yet long enough for tryall of their might.

But neuer Sun-ſet could be ſo obſcure,
    No Deſart euer had a ſhade ſo ſad:
    Nor could black darkneſſe euer proue ſo bad,
    As paines which abſence makes me now indure.

The miſſing of the Sunne a while makes Night,
But abſence of my ioy ſees neuer light.
20.

The Sun which glads the earth at his bright sight
    When in the morn he shows his golden face,
    And takes the place from tedious drowsy night
    Making the world still happy in his grace;

Shows happiness remains not in one place,
    Nor may the heavens, alone to us give light,
    But hide that cheerful face, though no long space,
    Yet long enough for trial of their might;

But never sunset could be so obscure
    No desert ever had a shade so sad,
    Nor could black darkness ever prove se bad
    As pains which absence makes me now endure;

The missing of the sun awhile makes night,
    But absence of my joy sees never Light.


F24 F24mod P24 P24mod

21.

When I last ſaw thee, I did nott thee ſee,
    itt was thy Image, wch in my thoughts lay
    ſoe liuely figur'd, as noe times delay
    could ſuffer mee in hart to parted bee;

And sleepe ſoe fauorable is to mee,
    as nott to lett thy lou'd remembrance stray,
    least that I waking might haue cauſe to ſay
    ther was one minute found to forgett thee;

Then ſince my faith is ſuch, ſoe kind my sleepe
    that gladly thee preſents into my thought:
    and still true louer like thy face doth keepe
    ſoe as ſome pleaſure shadowe=like is wrought

Pitty my louing, nay of conſience giue
reward to mee in whom thy ſelf doth liue,

21.

When I last* saw thee, I did not thee see,
    It was thy* Image, which in my thoughts lay
    So lively figured, as no time's delay
    Could suffer me in heart to parted be;

And sleep so favourable is to me,
    As not to let thy loved remembrance stray,
    Lest that I waking might have cause to say
    There was one minute found to forget thee;

Then since my faith is such, so kind my sleep
    That gladly thee presents into my thought:
    And still true lover-like thy face doth keep
    So as some pleasure shadow-like is wrought,

Pity my loving, nay of conscience give
    Reward to me in whom thy self doth live.


Some parallels with AS 32 in which Stella's image appears to Astrophil, and also AS 38:

    This night, while sleep begins with heavy wings
    To hatch mine eyes, and that unbitted thought
    Doth fall to stray, and my chief powers are brought
    To leave the sceptre of all subject things;
    The first that straight my fancies error brings
    Unto my mind is Stella's image, wrought
    By Love's own self,

'I last' = 'last I' in P.
'thy' = 'thine' in P
21.

When laſt I ſaw thee, I did not thee ſee,
    It was thine Image which in my thoughts lay
    So liuely figur'd, as no times delay
    Could ſuffer me in heart to parted be.

And ſleepe ſo fauourable is to me,
    As not to let thy lou'd remembrance ſtray:
    Leſt that I waking might haue cauſe to ſay,
    There was one mnute found to forget thee.

Then, ſince my faith is ſuch, ſo kinde my ſleepe,
    That gladly thee preſents into my thought,
    And ſtill true Louer-like thy face doth keepe,
    So as ſome pleaſure ſhadow-like is wrought.

Pitty my louing, nay of conſcience giue
Reward to me in whom thy ſelfe doth liue.
21.

When last I saw thee, I did not thee see,
    It was thine Image, which in my thoughts lay
    So lively figured, as no time's delay
    Could suffer me in heart to parted be;

And sleep so favourable is to me,
    As not to let thy loved remembrance stray,
    Least that I waking might have cause to say
    There was one minute found to forget thee;

Then since my faith is such, so kind my sleep
    That gladly thee presents into my thought:
    And still true lover-like thy face doth keep
    So as some pleasure shadow-like is wrought

Pity my loving, nay of conscience give
    Reward to me in whom thy self doth live.


F25 F25mod

22.

Cupid would needs make mee a louer bee
    when I did litle thinke of louing thought
    or euer to bee ty'de; till hee told mee
    that non can liue, butt to his bands are brought;

I, ignorant, did grant, and ſoe was bought,
    and ſolde againe to louers slauerie;
    the duty to the god of loue once taught
    ſuch band is, as wee will nott ſeeke to free,

Yett when I well did vnderstand his might
    how hee inflam'de, and forc'd one to affect
    I lou'd, and ſmarted, counting itt delight
    ſoe still to wast, which reaſon did reiect,

When loue came blindfold, and did chaleng mee
Indeed I lou'd butt wanton boy nott hee.

22.

Cupid would needs make me a lover be
    When I did little think of loving thought
    Or ever to be tied; till he told me
    That none can live, but to his bands are brought;

I, ignorant, did grant, and so was bought,
    And sold again to lover's slavery;
    The duty to the god of love once taught
    Such band is, as we will not seek to free,

Yet when I well did understand his might
    How he enflamed, and forced one to* affect
    I loved, and smarted, counting it delight
    So still to waste, which reason did reject,

When love came blindfold, and did challenge me.
    Indeed I loved but, wanton boy, not he.


Not in P.

In this meditation on Cupid's power, Pamphilia seems especially torn between resistance and submission.
'forced one to': written over words which are crossed out and illegible.


F26 F26mod P26 P26mod

23.

When euery one to pleaſing pastime hies
    ſome hunt, ſome hauke, ſome play, while ſome delight
    in ſweet diſcourſe, and muſique ſhowes ioys might
    yett I my thoughts doe farr aboue thes priſe

The ioy wch I take, is that free from eyes
    I ſitt, and wunder att this daylike night
    ſoe to dispoſe themſelues, as voyd of right;
    and leaue true pleaſure for poore vanities

When others hunt, my thoughts I haue in chaſe;
    if hauke, my minde att wished end doth fly,
    diſcourſe, I, wt my spiritt tauke, and cry
    while others, muſique is theyr greatest grace

O God, ſay I, can thes fond pleaſures moue?
Or muſique bee butt in deere thoughts of loue?

23.

When every one to pleasing pastime hies
    Some hunt, some hawk, some play,* while some delight
    In sweet discourse, and music shows joy's might
    Yet I my thoughts do* far above these prize

The joy which I take, is that free from eyes
    I sit, and wonder at this day-like night
    So to dispose themselves, as void of right;
    And leave true pleasure for poor vanities

When others hunt, my thoughts I have in chase;
    If hawk, my mind at wished end doth fly,
    Discourse, I, with my spirit* talk, and cry
    While others, music is their* greatest grace.

O God, say I, can these fond pleasures move?
    Or music be but in dear* thoughts of love?


'play': probably play cards or a similar game; like hawking and hunting, seen here as vain aristocratic pursuits. Wroth's husband Robert Wroth was especially fond of hunting, a passion he shared with King James, and he had the position of Forester. But while this sonnet may well have an autobiographical cast, Mary Wroth took part in courtly pastimes herself, notably dancing in masques arranged by Queen Anne.

'do': written over top of 'did'.
'spirit': here meaning something like Soul, with a sense of the essence of oneself.
'is their' = 'choose as' in P.
'dear' = 'sweet' in P.
23.

When euery one to pleaſing paſtime hies,
    Some hunt, ſome hauke, ſome play while ſome delight
    In ſweet diſcourſe, and muſicke ſhewes ioyes might:
    Yet I my thoughts doe farre aboue theſe prize.

The ioy which I take is, that free from eyes
    I ſit and wonder at this day-like night,
    So to diſpoſe themſelues as void of right,
    And leaue true pleaſure for poore vanities.

When others hunt, my thoughts I haue in chaſe;
    If hauke, my minde at wiſhed end doth flye:
    Diſcourſe, I with my ſpirit talke and cry;
    While others muſicke chooſe as greateſt grace.

O God ſay I, can theſe fond pleaſures moue,
Or muſicke bee but in ſweet thoughts of Loue?
23.

When every one to pleasing pastime hies
    Some hunt, some hawk, some play, while some delight
    In sweet discourse, and music shows joy's might
    Yet I my thoughts do far above these prize

The joy which I take, is that free from eyes
    I sit, and wonder at this day-like night
    So to dispose themselves, as void of right;
    And leave true pleasure for poor vanities

When others hunt, my thoughts I have in chase;
    If hawk, my mind at wished end doth fly,
    Discourse, I, with my spirit talk, and cry
    While others, music choose as greatest grace.

O God, say I, can these fond pleasures move?
    Or music be but in sweet thoughts of love?


F27 F27mod P27 P27mod

24.

Once did I heere an aged father ſay
    vnto his ſonn who wt attention hears.
    what age, and wiſe experience euer clears
    from doubts of feare, or reaſon to betray,

My Sonn sayd hee, beehold thy father, gray,
    I once had as thou hast, fresh tender years,
    and like thee sported, destitude of feares
    butt my young faults made mee too ſoone decay;

Loue once I did, and like thee fear'd my loue,
    led by the hatefull thread of Ielouſy,
    striuing to keepe, I lost my liberty,
    and gain'd my griefe wch still my ſorrowes moue,

In time shunn this; To loue is noe offence
butt doubt in youth, in age breeds penitence;

24.

Once did I hear an aged father say
    Unto his son who with attention hears
    What age and wise experience ever clears
    From doubts of fear, or reason to betray,

'My Son,' said he, 'behold thy father, grey:
    I once had as thou hast, fresh tender years,
    And like thee sported, destitute of fears,
    But my young faults made me too soon decay;

Love once I did, and like thee feared my love,
    Led by the hateful thread of jealousy,
    Striving to keep, I lost my liberty,
    And gained my grief which still my sorrows move.

In time shun this; to love is no offence
    But doubt in youth, in age breeds penitence.'


The discussion between youth and age is a perennial theme. Roberts [P27] compares this sonnet to an eclogue between Geron and Histor, from Philip Sidney's Old Arcadia.
24.

Once did I heare an aged father ſay
    Vnto his ſonne, who with attention heares
    What Age and wiſe experience euer cleares
    From doubts of feare, or reaſon to betray.

My ſonne (ſaid hee) behold thy father gray,
    I once had as thou haſt, freſh tender yeares,
    And like thee ſported deſtitute of feares;
    But my young faults made me too ſoone decay.

Loue once I did, and like thee, fear'd my Loue,
    Led by the hatefull threed of Iealouſie,
    Striuing to keepe, I loſt my liberty,
    And gain'd my griefe, which ſtill my ſorrowes moue.

In time ſhun this, to loue is no offence,
But doubt in Youth, in Age, breeds penitence.
24.

Once did I hear an aged father say
    Unto his son who with attention hears
    What age, and wise experience ever clears
    From doubts of fear, or reason to betray,

'My Son,' said he, 'behold thy father, grey:
    I once had as thou hast, fresh tender years,
    And like thee sported, destitute of fears,
    But my young faults made me too soon decay;

Love once I did, and like thee feared my love,
    Led by the hateful thread of jealousy,
    Striving to keep, I lost my liberty,
    And gained my grief which still my sorrows move.

In time shun this; to love is no offence
    But doubt in youth, in age breeds penitence.'


F28 F28mod P28 P28mod

Song 4.

Sweetest loue returne againe
    make nott to long stay.
killing mirthe, and forceing paine
    ſorrow leading way:
lett vs nott thus parted bee
loue, and abſence ne're agree;

Butt ſince you must needs depart,
    and mee haples leaue,
in your iourney take my hart
    wch will nott deſeaue
yors itt is, to you itt flyes
ioying in thoſe loued eyes,

Soe in part, wee shall nott part
    though wee abſent bee;
time, nor place, nor greatest ſmart
    shall my bands make free
ty'de I ame, yett thinke itt gaine;
in ſuch knotts I feele noe paine.

Butt can I liue hauing lost
    chiefest part of mee
hart is fled, and ſight is crost
    theſe my fortunes bee
yett deere hart goe, ſoone returne
as good there, as heere to burne

Song 4.

Sweetest love return again
    Make not too long stay.
    Killing mirth, and forcing pain
    Sorrow leading way:
    Let us not thus parted be
    Love, and absence ne'er agree;

But since you must needs* depart,
    And me hapless leave,
    In your journey take my heart
    Which will not deceive
    Yours it is, to you it flies
    Joying in those loved eyes,

So in part, we shall not part
    Though we absent be;
    Time, nor place, nor greatest smart
    Shall my bands make free
    Tied I am, yet think it gain;
    In such knots I feel no pain.

But can I live having lost
    Chiefest part of me
    Heart is fled, and sight is crossed
    These my fortunes be
    Yet dear heart go, soon return
    As good there, as here to burn.


Roberts [P28] notes similarities between this song and Donne's 'Sweetest Love I do not go/For weariness of thee'. Indeed it could be read as an answer to Donne's rationalisation of his departure, spoken by the woman left behind.

'needs' = 'now' in P.
Song. 4.

Sweeteſt Loue returne againe,
    Make not too long ſtay;
Killing mirth and forcing paine;
    Sorrow leading way:
Let vs not thus parted be,
Loue, and abſence nere agree.

But ſince you muſt needs depart,
    And me hapleſſe leaue;
In your iourney take my heart,
    Which will not deceiue:
Yours it is, to you it flies,
Ioying in thoſe loued eyes.

So in part we ſhall not part,
    Though we abſent be,
Tyme, nor place, nor greateſt ſmart,
    Shall my bands make free:
Tyed I am, yet thinke it gaine,
In ſuch knots I feele no paine.

But can I liue, hauing loſt
    Chiefeſt part of me?
Heart is fled, and ſight is croſt,
    Theſe my fortunes be:
Yet deare heart goe, ſoone returne,
As good there as heere to burne.
Song 4.

Sweetest love return again
    Make not too long stay.
    Killing mirth, and forcing pain
    Sorrow leading way:
    Let us not thus parted be
    Love, and absence ne'er agree;

But since you must now depart,
    And me hapless leave,
    In your journey take my heart
    Which will not deceive
    Yours it is, to you it flies
    Joying in those loved eyes,

So in part, we shall not part
    Though we absent be;
    Time, nor place, nor greatest smart
    Shall my bands make free
    Tied I am, yet think it gain;
    In such knots I feel no pain.

But can I live having lost
    Chiefest part of me
    Heart is fled, and sight is crossed
    These my fortunes be
    Yet dear heart go, soon return
    As good there, as here to burn.


F29 F29mod P29 P29mod

25.

Poore eyes bee blind, the light behold noe more
    ſince that is gon wch is your deere delight
    rauish'd from you by greater powre, and might
    making yor loſs a gaine to others store,

O'reflowe, and drowne, till ſight to you restore
    that bleſsed star, and as in hatefull spite
    ſend forth your teares in flouds, to kill all ſight,
    and looks, that lost, wherin you ioy'd before.

Bury thoſe beames, wch in ſome kindled fires,
    and conquer'd haue theyr loue=burnt=harts deſires
    looſing, and yett noe gaine by you esteem'd,

Till that bright starr doe once againe apeere
    brighter then Mars when hee doth shine most cleere
    ſee nott: then by his might bee you redeem'd

25.

Poor eyes be blind, the light behold no more
    Since that is gone which is your dear delight,
    Ravished from you by greater power, and might,
    Making your loss a gain to others' store,

O'erflow, and drown, till sight to you restore
    That blessed star, and as in hateful spite
    Send forth your tears in floods, to kill all sight,
    And looks, that lost, wherein you joyed before.

Bury those* beams, which in some kindled fires,
    And conquered have their love-burnt hearts' desires
    Losing, and yet no gain by you esteemed,

Till that bright star do once again appear
    Brighter than Mars when he doth shine most clear
    See not: then by his might be you redeemed.


Another sonnet which plays with images of sight and blindness, again reminiscent of many sonnets in the Petrarchan tradition, including a number from AS and from RS (for example, the 'pleased but cursed eyes' in RS sonnet 16).

'those' = 'these' in P.
25.

Poore eyes bee blinde, the light behold no more,
    Since that is gone which is your deare delight:
    Rauiſh'd from you by greater power and might,
    Making your loſſe a gaine to others ſtore.

Oreflow and drowne, till ſight to you reſtore
    That bleſſed Starre, and as in hatefull ſpight,
    Send forth your teares in flouds to kill all ſight,
    And lookes, that loſt wherein you ioy'd before.

Bury theſe beames which in ſome kindled fires,
    And conquer'd haue their loue-burnt hearts deſires,
    Loſing, and yet no gaine by you eſteem'd;

Till that bright Starre doe once againe appeare,
    Brighter then Mars when hee doth ſhine moſt cleare;
    See not then by his might be you redeem'd.
25.

Poor eyes be blind, the light behold no more
    Since that is gone which is your dear delight
    Ravished from you by greater power, and might,
    Making your loss a gain to others' store,

O'erflow, and drown, till sight to you restore
    That blessed star, and as in hateful spite
    Send forth your tears in floods, to kill all sight,
    And looks, that lost, wherein you joyed before.

Bury these beams, which in some kindled fires,
    And conquered have their love-burnt hearts' desires
    Losing, and yet no gain by you esteemed,

Till that bright star do once again appear
    Brighter than Mars when he doth shine most clear
    See not: then by his might bee you redeemed.


F30 F30mod P65 P65mod

26.

Most bleſsed Night, the happy time for loue,
    the shade for Louers and theyr loues delight,
    the Raigne of Venus' ſeruants, free from spite,
    the hopefull ſeaſon, for ioy's sports to moue;

Now hast thou made thy glory higher proue
    then did the God, whoſe pleaſant reede did ſmite
    all Argus eyes into a deathlike night
    till they were ſafe, that loue could non reproue,

Butt thou hast cloſ'd thoſe eyes from priing ſight
    that nourish iealouſie more then ioyes right
    while Vaine ſuspition fosters theyr mistrust,

Making ſweet sleepe to master all ſuspect
    wch els theyr priuatt feares would nott neglect
    butt would imbrace both blinded, and vniust

26.

Most blessed Night, the happy time for love,
    The shade for Lovers and their love's delight,
    The reign of Venus'* servants, free from spite,
    The hopeful season,* for joy's sports to move;

Now hast thou made thy glory higher prove
    Than did the God, whose pleasant reed* did smite
    All Argus' eyes into a deathlike night
    Till they were safe, that love could none* reprove,

But* thou hast closed those eyes from prying sight
    That nourish jealousy more than joy's right
    While vain suspicion fosters their mistrust,

Making sweet sleep to master all suspect
    Which else their private fears would not neglect
    But would embrace both blinded, and unjust.


This sonnet is yet another variation on the theme of eyes, blindness and night, but in this case, night, sleep and blindness pave the way for love and the fulfilment of desire. Roberts [P65] notes an analogous reference to Argus' eyes in AS Song 11.

Moved in P to fol. 30 as sonnet 3 [P65].

'Venus' ' = 'Love for' in P.
'season' = seasons' in P.
'reed': the reed is the pan pipe played by Mercury to lull Argus, who had a thousand eyes, to sleep so that he might be killed. Argus was guarding Io, who was loved by Jupiter, but was turned into a cow by Jupiter's jealous wife Juno.
'love could none' = 'none could love' in P.
'But' = 'now' in P.
3.

Moſt bleſſed night, the happy time for Loue,
    The ſhade for Louers, and their Loues delight,
    The raigne of Loue for ſeruants free from ſpight,
    The hopefull ſeaſons for ioyes ſports to mooue.

Now haſt thou made thy glory higher prooue,
    Then did the God, whoſe pleaſant Reede did ſmite
    All Argus eyes into a death-like night,
    Till they were ſafe, that none could Loue reprooue.

Now thou haſt cloaſd thoſe eyes from prying ſight
    That nouriſh Iealouſie, more than ioyes right,
    While vaine Suſpition foſters their miſtruſt,

Making ſweet ſleepe to maſter all ſuſpect,
    Which els their priuate feares would not neglect,
    But would embrace both blinded, and vniuſt.
Sonnet 3

Most blessed Night, the happy time for love,
    The shade for Lovers and their love's delight,
    The reign of Love for servants, free from spite,
    The hopeful seasons for joy's sports to move;

Now hast thou made thy glory higher prove
    Than did the God, whose pleasant reed did smite
    All Argus' eyes into a deathlike night
    Till they were safe, that love none could reprove,

Now thou hast closed those eyes from prying sight
    That nourish jealousy more than joy's right
    While vain suspicion fosters their mistrust,

Making sweet sleep to master all suspect
    Which else their private fears would not neglect
    But would embrace both blinded, and unjust.


F31 F31mod P31 P31mod

27.

Fy treacherous Hope, why doe you still rebell?
    is itt nott yett enough you flatterd mee?
    butt cuningly you ſeeke to vſe a spell
    how to beetray, must thes your trophies bee?

I look'd from you farr ſweeter fruite to ſee
    butt blasted were your bloſsoms when they fell,
    and thoſe delights expected late from thee
    wither'd, and dead, and what ſeem'd bliſs proues Hell.

Noe towne was wunn by a more plotted slight
    then I by you, who may my fortune write
    in embers of that fire wch ruind mee,

Thus Hope, your faulshood calls you to bee tride
    you're loth I ſee the triall to abide
    proue true att last, and I will ſett thee free

27.

Fie treacherous* Hope, why do you still rebel?
    Is it not yet enough you flattered me?
    But cunningly you seek to use a spell
    How to betray, must these your trophies be?

I looked from you far sweeter fruit to see
    But blasted were your blossoms when they fell,
    And those delights expected late from thee*
    Withered, and dead, and what seemed bliss proves Hell.

No town was won by a more plotted slight
    Than I by you, who may my fortune write
    In embers of that fire which ruined me,

Thus Hope, your falsehood calls you to be tried
    You're loath, I see, the trial to abide;
    Prove true at last, and I will set thee free.*


The personification of Hope mirrors AS 67: 'Hope, art thou true, or dost thou flatter me?'. But Wroth's sonnet is more complex, offering a paradox: that Hope will be set free if proven true in a trial which puns on trying something out and a legal trial - a sense strengthened in the revised final phrase for P, which reads 'gain your liberty', rather than 'I will set thee free'.

'treacherous' = 'tedious' in P.
'Late from thee' = 'from hands free' in P.
'I will set thee free' = ''gain your liberty' in P.
27.

Fie tedious Hope, why doe you ſtill rebell?
    Is it not yet enough you flatter'd me,
    But cunningly you ſeeke to vſe a Spell
    How to betray; muſt theſe your Trophees bee?

I look'd from you farre ſweeter fruite to ſee,
    But blaſted were your bloſſomes when they fell:
    And thoſe delights expected from hands free,
    Wither'd and dead, and what ſeemd bliſſe proues hell.

No Towne was won by a more plotted ſlight,
    Then I by you, who may my fortune write,
    In embers of that fire which ruin'd me:

Thus Hope your falſhood calls you to be tryde,
    You'r loth, I ſee, the tryall to abide;
    Proue true at laſt, and gaine your liberty.
27.

Fie tedious Hope, why do you still rebel?
    Is it not yet enough you flattered me?
    But cunningly you seek to use a spell
    How to betray, must these your trophies be?

I looked from you far sweeter fruit to see
    But blasted were your blossoms when they fell,
    And those delights expected from hands free
    Withered, and dead, and what seemed bliss proves Hell.

No town was won by a more plotted slight
    Than I by you, who may my fortune write
    In embers of that fire which ruined me,

Thus Hope, your falsehood calls you to be tried
    You're loath, I see, the trial to abide;
    Prove true at last, and gain your liberty.


F32 F32mod P32 P32mod

28.

Griefe, killing griefe; haue nott my torments bi
    allreddy great, and strong enough: butt still
    thou dost increaſe, nay glory in my ill,
    and woes new past affresh new woes beegi!

Am I the only purchaſe you can winn?
    was I ordain'd to giue dispaire her fill
    or fittest I should mounte misfortunes hill
    who in the plaine of ioy can=nott liue in?

If itt bee ſoe: Griefe come as wellcome ghest
    ſince I must ſuffer, for an others rest:
    yett this good griefe, lett mee intreat of thee,

Vſe still thy force, butt nott from thoſe I loue
    lett mee all paines, and lasting torments proue
    ſoe I miſs thes, lay all thy waits on mee

28

Grief, killing grief, have not my torments been
    Already great, and strong enough, but still
    Thou dost increase, nay glory in my* ill,
    And woes new past, afresh new woes begin!

Am I the only purchase you can* win?
    Was I ordained to give despair her fill
    Or fittest I should mount misfortune's hill
    Who in the plain of joy cannot live in?*

If it be so, grief come as welcome guest
    Since I must suffer, for another's rest:
    Yet this good grief, let me entreat of thee,

Use still thy force, but not from those I love
    Let me all pains, and lasting torments prove
    So I miss these, lay all thy weights on me.


Roberts [P32] cites a parallel with AS 94:

    Grief, find the words; for thou hast made my brain
    So dark with misty vapours, which arise
    From out thy heavy mould, that inbent eyes
    Can scarce discern the shape of mine own pain.

'my' = 'mine' in P.
'you can' = thou canst' in P.
'in the plain of joy cannot live in': the repetition of 'in' seems awkward but perhaps emphasises the emotional rejection of the possibility of living within the 'plain' of joy.
28.

Griefe, killing griefe, haue not my torments beene
    Already great and ſtrong enough? but ſtill
    Thou doſt increaſe, nay glory in mine il,
    And woes new paſt, afreſh new woes begin?

Am I the onely purchaſe thou canſt win?
    Was I ordain'd to giue deſpaire her fill,
    Or fitteſt I ſhould mount misfortunes hill,
    Who in the plaine of ioy cannot liue in?

If it be ſo, Griefe come as welcome gueſt,
    Since I muſt ſuffer for anothers reſt;
    Yet this (good Griefe) let me intreat of thee,

Vſe ſtill thy force, but not from thoſe I loue
    Let me all paines and laſting torments proue;
    So I miſſe theſe, lay all thy waights on me.
28.

Grief, killing grief, have not my torments been
    Already great, and strong enough, but still
    Thou dost increase, nay glory in mine ill,
    And woes new past, afresh new woes begin!

Am I the only purchase thou canst win?
    Was I ordained to give despair her fill
    Or fittest I should mount misfortune's hill
    Who in the plain of joy cannot live in?

If it be so, grief come as welcome guest
    Since I must suffer, for another's rest:
    Yet this good grief, let me entreat of thee,

Use still thy force, but not from those I love
    Let me all pains, and lasting torments prove
    So I miss these, lay all thy weights on me.


F33 F33mod P33 P33mod

29.

Fly hence o!, ioy noe longer heere abide
    to great thy pleaſures ar, for my dispaire
    to looke on, loſses now must proue my fare
    who nott long ſince, on better foode relide;

Butt foole, how oft had I heauns changing spide
    beefore of my owne fate I could take care,
    yett now past time, too late I can beeware
    now nothing's left butt ſorrowes faster tyde;

While I inioy'd that ſunn whoſe ſight did lend
    mee ioy, I thought, that day, could haue noe end
    butt o! a night came cloth'd in abſence darke,

Abſence more ſad, more bitter then is gall
    or death, when on true louers itt doth fall
    whoſe fires of loue, diſdaineth rests poore sparke

29.

Fly hence, O joy, no longer here abide,
    Too great thy pleasures are for my despair
    To look on, losses now must prove my fare
    Who not long since, on better food relied;

But fool, how oft had I heaven's changing spied
    Before of my* own fate I could take* care,
    Yet now past time, too late I can* beware
    Now* nothing's left but sorrow's faster tide;

While I enjoyed that sun whose sight did lend
    Me joy, I thought that day could have no end
    But oh!* a night came clothed in absence dark,

Absence more sad, more bitter then is gall
    Or death, when on true lovers it doth fall
    Whose fires of love, disdaineth* rest's poor* spark.


'my' = 'mine' in P
'take' = 'have' in P.
'too late I can' = 'I can too late' in P
'now' = 'when' in P.
'oh' = 'soon' in P.
'disdaineth' = 'disdain' in P.
'poor' = 'poorer' in P. P's 'whose fires of love disdain rests poorer spark' makes more sense than F's 'disdaineth' and 'poor' although in both cases the sense is rather difficult: something like 'absence is worse than anything for true lovers who, burning with desire/love, disdain the feebler pleasure of rest'.
29.

Flye hence, O Ioy, no longer heere abide,
    Too great thy pleaſures are for my deſpaire
    To looke on, loſſes now muſt proue my fare;
    Who not long ſince on better foode relide.

But foole, how oft had I Heau'ns changing ſpi'de
    Before of mine owne fate I could haue care:
    Yet now paſt time I can too late beware,
    When nothings left but ſorrowes faſter ty'de.

While I enioyd that Sunne, whoſe ſight did lend
    Me ioy, I thought that day could haue no end:
    But ſoone a night came cloath'd in abſence darke;

Abſence more ſad, more bitter then is gall,
    Or death, when on true Louers it doth fall;
    Whoſe fires of loue, diſdaine reaſts poorer ſparke.
29.

Fly hence, O joy, no longer here abide,
    Too great thy pleasures are for my despair
    To look on, losses now must prove my fare
    Who not long since, on better food relied;

But fool, how oft had I heaven's changing spied
    Before of mine own fate I could have care,
    Yet now past time, I can too late beware
    When nothing's left but sorrow's faster tide;

While I enjoyed that sun whose sight did lend
    Me joy, I thought that day could have no end
    But soon a night came clothed in absence dark,

Absence more sad, more bitter then is gall
    Or death, when on true lovers it doth fall
    Whose fires of love, disdain rest's poorer spark.


F34 F34mod P34 P34mod

30.

You bleſsed shades, wch giue mee ſilent rest,
    wittnes butt this when death hath cloſ'd mine eyes,
    and ſeparated mee from earthly ties,
    beeing from hence to higher place adrest;

How oft in you I haue laine heere oprest,
    and haue my miſeries in woefull cries
    deliuer'd forth, mounting vp to the skies
    yett helples back returnd to wound my brest,

Wch wounds did butt striue how, to breed more harme
    to mee, who, can bee cur'de by noe one charme
    butt that of loue, wch yett may mee releeue

If nott, lett death my former paines redeeme,
    and you my, trusty freinds, my faith esteeme
    and wittnes I well could loue, who ſoe could greeue

30.

You blessed shades, which give me silent rest,
    Witness but this when death hath closed mine eyes,
    And separated me from earthly ties,
    Being from hence to higher place addressed;

How oft in you I have lain here oppressed
    And have my miseries in woeful cries
    Delivered forth, mounting up to the skies
    Yet helpless back returned to wound my breast,

Which wounds did but strive how to breed more harm
    To me, who can be cured by no one charm
    But that of love, which yet may me relieve.

If not, let death my former pains redeem,
    And you my trusty friends, my faith esteem*
    And witness I [well]* could love, who so could grieve.


Roberts [P34] notes a parallel at the end of RS Song 19:

    Mortal in love are joy and pleasure,
    The fading frame wherein love moves,
    But grief and anguish are the measure
    That do immortalise our loves.

'and you...esteem' = 'my trusty friends, my faith untouched esteem' in P.
'[well]': crossed through once in the manuscript, deleted in P.
30.

You bleſſed ſhades, which giue me ſilent reſt,
    Witnes but this when death hath clos'd mine eyes,
    And ſeparated me from earthly tyes;
    Being from hence to higher places adreſt.

How oft in you I haue laine heere oppreſt?
    And haue my miſeries in wofull cryes
    Deliuer'd forth, mounting vp to the Skyes?
    Yet helpleſſe, backe return'd to wound my breſt.

Which wounds did but ſtriue how to breed more harm
    To me, who can be cur'd by no one charme
    But that of Loue, which yet may me releeue;

If not, let Death my former paines redeeme,
    My truſty friends, my faith vntouch'd, eſteeme,
    And witneſle I could loue, who ſo could grieue.
30.

You blessed shades, which give me silent rest,
    Witness but this when death hath closed mine eyes,
    And separated me from earthly ties,
    Being from hence to higher place addressed;

How oft in you I have lain here oppressed
    And have my miseries in woeful cries
    Delivered forth, mounting up to the skies
    Yet helpless back returned to wound my breast,

Which wounds did but strive how to breed more harm
    To me, who can be cured by no one charm
    But that of love, which yet may me relieve.

If not, let death my former pains redeem,
    My trusty friends, my faith untouched esteem,
    And witness I could love, who so could grieve.


F35 F35mod P35 P35mod

Song 5.

Time only cauſe of my vnrest
by whom I hop'd once to bee blest
    how cruell art thou turned?
That first gau'st lyfe vnto my loue,
and still a pleaſure nott to moue
    or chang though euer burned;

Haue I thee slack'd, or left vndun
one louing rite, and ſoe haue wunn
    thy rage or bitter changing?
That now noe minute I shall ſee,
wherin I may least happy bee
    thy fauor ſoe estranging.

Blame thy ſelf, and nott my folly,
time gaue time butt to bee holly;
    true loue ſuch ends best loueth,
Vnworthy loue doth ſeeke for ends
a worthy loue butt worth pretends
    nor other thoughts itt proueth:

Then stay thy ſwiftnes cruell time,
and lett mee once more bleſsed clime
    to ioy, that I may prayſe thee
Lett mee pleaſure ſweetly tasting
ioy in loue, and faith nott wasting,
    and on fames wings I'le rayſe thee:

Neuer shall thy glory dying
bee vntill thine owne vntying
    that time noe longer liueth;
T'is a gaine ſuch tyme to lend;
ſince ſoe thy fame shall neuer end
    Butt ioy for what she giueth

Song 5

Time only cause of my unrest
    By whom I hoped once to be blessed
    How cruel art thou turned?
    That first gavest life unto my love,
    And still a pleasure not to move
    Or change, though ever burned;

Have I thee slacked, or left undone
    One loving rite, and so have won
    Thy rage or bitter changing?
    That now no minute* I shall see,
    Wherein I may least happy be
    Thy favour* so estranging.

Blame thyself, and not my folly,
    Time gave time but to be holy;
    True love such ends best loveth,
    Unworthy love doth seek for ends
    A worthy love but worth pretends
    Nor other thoughts it proveth:

Then stay thy swiftness cruel time,
    And let me once more blessed climb
    To joy, that I may praise thee.
    Let me pleasure sweetly tasting
    Joy in love, and faith not wasting,
    And on fame's wings I'll raise thee:

Never shall thy glory dying
    Be until thine own untying
    That time no longer liveth;
    'Tis a gain such time to lend;
    Since so thy fame shall never end
    But joy for what she giveth.


'minute' = 'minutes' in P.
'favour' = 'favours' in P.
Song. 5.

Time onely cauſe of my vnreſt,
    By whom I hop'd once to be bleſt,
    How cruell art thou turn'd?
That firſt gau'ſt life vnto my loue,
And ſtill a pleaſure not to moue,
    Or change, though euer burn'd.

Haue I thee ſlack'd, or left vndone
One louing rite, and ſo haue wonne,
    Thy rage, or bitter changing?
That now no minutes I ſhall ſee,
Wherein I may leaſt happy be,
    Thy fauours ſo eſtranging.

Blame thy ſelfe and not my folly,
Time gaue time but to be holy,
    True Loue ſuch ends beſt loueth:
Vnworthy Loue doth ſeeke for ends,
A worthy Loue, but worth pretends;
    Nor other thoughts it proueth.

Then ſtay thy ſwiftnes cruell Time,
And let me once more bleſſed clime
    to ioy, that I may praiſe thee:
Let me pleaſure ſweetly taſting,
Ioy in Loue, and faith not waſting,
    and on Fames wings Ile raiſe thee.

Neuer ſhall thy glory dying,
Bee vntill thine owne vntying,
    that Tyme no longer liueth,
'Tis a gaine ſuch time to lend,
Since ſo thy fame ſhall neuer end,
    But ioy for ſhe giueth.
Song 5

Time only cause of my unrest
    By whom I hoped once to be blessed
    How cruel art thou turned?
    That first gavest life unto my love,
    And still a pleasure not to move
    Or change, though ever burned;

Have I thee slacked, or left undone
    One loving rite, and so have won
    Thy rage or bitter changing?
    That now no minutes I shall see,
    Wherein I may least happy be
    Thy favours so estranging.

Blame thy self, and not my folly,
    Time gave time but to be holy;
    True love such ends best loveth,
    Unworthy love doth seek for ends
    A worthy love but worth pretends
    Nor other thoughts it proveth:

Then stay thy swiftness cruel time,
    And let me once more blessed climb
    To joy, that I may praise thee.
    Let me pleasure sweetly tasting
    Joy in love, and faith not wasting,
    And on fame's wings I'll raise thee:

Never shall thy glory dying
    Be until thine own untying
    That time no longer liveth;
    'Tis a gain such time to lend;
    Since so thy fame shall never end
    But joy for what she giveth.


F36 F36mod P36 P36mod

31.

After long trouble in a tædious way
    of loues vnrest, lay'd downe to eaſe my paine
    hopeing for rest, new torments I did gaine
    poſseſsing mee as if I ought t'obay:

When Fortune came, though blinded, yett did stay,
    and in her bleſsed armes did mee inchaine;
    I, colde wth griefe, thought noe warmth to obtaine
    or to diſsolue that ice of ioyes decay;

Till, riſe ſayd she, Venus to thee doth ſend
    by mee the ſeruante of true louers, ioy
    ba̅n̅ish all clowds of doubt, all feares destroy,
    and now on Fortune, and on Loue depend

I, her obay'd, and riſing felt that loue
Indeed was best, when I did least itt moue .

31.

After long trouble in a tedious way
    Of love's unrest, laid down to ease my pain,
    Hoping for rest, new torments I did gain
    Possessing me as if I ought t'obey:

When Fortune came, though blinded, yet did stay,
    And in her blessed arms did me enchain;
    I, cold with grief, thought no warmth to obtain
    Or to dissolve that ice of joy's decay;

Till, 'Rise,' said she, 'Venus* to thee doth send
    By me, the servant of true lovers, joy:
    Banish all clouds of doubt, all fears destroy,
    And now on Fortune, and on Love, depend.'

I her obeyed, and rising felt that love
    Indeed was best, when I did least it move.


In this interesting variation on the Petrarchan images of hot/cold, pain/pleasure, entrapment/freedom, Wroth has her speaker embrace love's chain, and joy in her suffering when she becomes a willing captive.

'Venus' = 'Reward' in P.
31.

After long trouble in a tedious way,
    Of Loues vnreſt, laid downe to eaſe my paine,
    Hoping for reſt, new torments I did gaine
    Poſſeſſing me, as if I ought t'obey.

When Fortune came, though blinded, yet did ſtay,
    And in her bleſſed armes did me inchaine:
    I, cold with griefe, thought no warmth to obtaine,
    Or to diſſolue that yce of ioyes decay.

Till riſe (ſaid ſhe) Reward to thee doth ſend
    By me the ſeruant of true Louers ioy:
    Banniſh all clouds of doubt, all feares deſtroy;
    And now on Fortune, and on Loue depend.

I her obey'd, and riſing felt that Loue
Indeed was beſt, when I did leaſt it moue.
31.

After long trouble in a tedious way
    Of love's unrest, laid down to ease my pain,
    Hoping for rest, new torments I did gain
    Possessing me as if I ought t'obey:

When Fortune came, though blinded, yet did stay,
    And in her blessed arms did me enchain;
    I, cold with grief, thought no warmth to obtain
    Or to dissolve that ice of joy's decay;

Till, 'Rise,' said she, 'Reward to thee doth send
    By me, the servant of true lovers, joy:
    Banish all clouds of doubt, all fears destroy,
    And now on Fortune, and on Love, depend.'

I her obeyed, and rising felt that love
    Indeed was best, when I did least it move.


F37 F37mod P37 P37mod

32.

How fast thou fliest, O Time, on loues ſwift wings
    To hopes of ioy, that flatters our deſire
    wch to a louer, still, contentment brings!
    yett, when wee should inioy thou dost retire

Thou stay'st thy pace faulſe time from our deſire,
    When to our ill thou hast'st wt Eagles wings,
    slowe, only to make vs ſee thy retire
    was for dispayre, and harme, wch ſorrowe brings;

O! slacke thy paſe, and milder paſs to loue
    bee like the Bee, whoſe wings she doth butt vſe
    to bring home profitt; masters good to proue
    laden, and weary, yett againe purſues,

Soe lade thy ſelf wth honnye of ſought ioye,
And doe nott mee the Hiue of loue destroy

32.

How fast thou fliest, O Time, on love's swift wings
    To hopes of joy, that flatters our desire
    Which to a lover, still, contentment brings!
    Yet, when we should enjoy, thou dost retire.

Thou stayest thy pace, false time, from our desire,
    When to our ill thou hast'st with Eagle's wings,
    Slow, only to make us see thy retire
    Was for despair, and harm, which sorrow brings;

O! slack thy pace, and milder pass to love
    Be like the bee, whose wings she doth but use
    To bring home profit, masters good to prove
    Laden, and weary, yet again pursues,

So lade thyself with honey of sought* joy
    And do not me the hive of love destroy.


'sought' = 'sweet' in P.
32.

How faſt thou flieſt, O Time, on Loues ſwift wings,
    To hopes of ioy, that flatters our deſire:
    Which to a Louer ſtill contentment brings;
    Yet when we ſhould inioy, thou doſt retire.

Thou ſtay'ſt thy pace (falſe Time) from our deſire
    When to our ill thou haſt'ſt with Eagles wings:
    Slow only to make vs ſee thy retire
    Was for Deſpaire, and harme, which ſorrowe brings.

O ſlake thy pace, and milder paſſe to Loue,
    Be like the Bee, whoſe wings ſhe doth but vſe
    To bring home profit; maſters good to proue,
    Laden, and weary, yet againe purſues.

So lade thy ſelfe with hony of ſweet ioy,
And do not me (the Hiue of Loue) deſtroy.
32.

How fast thou fliest, O Time, on love's swift wings
    To hopes of joy, that flatters our desire
    Which to a lover, still, contentment brings!
    Yet, when we should enjoy, thou dost retire.

Thou stayest thy pace, false time, from our desire,
    When to our ill thou hast'st with Eagle's wings,
    Slow, only to make us see thy retire
    Was for despair, and harm, which sorrow brings;

O! slack thy pace, and milder pass to love
    Be like the bee, whose wings she doth but use
    To bring home profit, masters good to prove
    Laden, and weary, yet again pursues,

So lade thyself with honey of sweet joy
    And do not me the hive of love destroy.


F38 F38mod P38 P38mod

33.

How many eyes hast thou poore Loue to guard
    thee, from thy most deſired wish, and end
    is itt becauſe ſome ſay thou' art blind, that bard
    from ſight, thou should'st noe hapines attend?

Who blame thee ſoe, ſmale iustice can pretend
    since 'twixt thee, and ye ſunn noe question hard
    can bee, his ſight butt outward, thou canst bend
    the hart, and guide itt freely; thus vnbard

Art thou, while wee both blind, and bold thus dare
    accuſe thee of the harmes, our ſelues should find
    who led wth folly, and by rashnes blind
    thy ſacred powre, doe wt a childs compare

Yett Loue this boldnes pardon: for admire
thee ſure wee must, or bee borne wthout fire

33.

How many eyes hast thou, poor Love,* to guard
    Thee from thy most desired wish, and end?
    Is it because some say thou' art blind, that barred
    From sight, thou should'st no happiness attend?

Who blame thee so, small* justice can pretend,
    Since 'twixt thee, and the sun no question hard
    Can be, his sight but outward, thou canst bend
    The heart, and guide it freely; thus unbarred

Art thou, while we both blind and bold thus* dare
    Accuse thee of the harms, ourselves should find
    Who led with folly, and by rashness blind,
    Thy sacred power do with a child's compare

Yet Love this boldness pardon: for admire
    Thee sure we must, or be born without fire.


This sonnet plays a particularly elaborate game with the idea of love/Cupid's blindness and the trials of desire. There is also a central paradox about the depiction of love as Cupid, a child, when the effects of desire are so powerful. Lovers themselves are grateful that they are born with 'fire', even if that subjects them to Cupid's power.

'hast thou, poor Love': = 'poor Love hast thou' in P.
'thus' = 'oft' in P; a good example of Wroth's painstaking revision.
'small': Wroth's 'smale' was in use for 'small' at the time she wrote, though would already have been a bit old fashioned.
33.

How many eyes (poore Loue) haſt thou to guard
    Thee from thy moſt deſired wiſh, and end?
    Is it becauſe ſome ſay th'art blinde, that barr'd
    From ſight, thou ſhould'ſt no happineſſe attend?

Who blame thee ſo, ſmall Iuſtice can pretend,
    Since twixt thee and the Sunne no queſtion hard
    Can be; his ſight but outward, thou can'ſt bend
    The heart, and guide it freely thus vnbar'd.

Art thou, while we both blinde and bold, oft dare
    Accuſe thee of the harmes our ſelues ſhould finde:
    Who led with folly, and by raſhneſſe blinde
    Thy ſacred power doe with a child's compare.

Yet Loue, this boldneſſe pardon; for admire
Thee ſure we muſt, or be borne without fire.
33.

How many eyes poor Love hast thou to guard
    Thee from thy most desired wish, and end?
    Is it because some say thou' art blind, that barred
    From sight, thou should'st no happiness attend?

Who blame thee so, small justice can pretend,
    Since 'twixt thee, and the sun no question hard
    Can be, his sight but outward, thou canst bend
    The heart, and guide it freely; thus unbarred

Art thou, while we both blind and bold oft dare
    Accuse thee of the harms, ourselves should find
    Who led with folly, and by rashness blind,
    Thy sacred power do with a child's compare

Yet Love this boldness pardon: for admire
    Thee sure we must, or be born without fire.


F39 F39mod P39 P39mod

34.

Take heed mine eyes, how you yor lookes doe cast
    least they beetray my harts most ſecrett thought;
    bee true vnto your ſelues for nothings bought
    more deere then doubt wch brings a louers fast

Catch you all waching eyes, ere they bee paſt,
    or take yours fixt wher your best loue hath ſought
    the pride of your deſires; lett them bee taught
    theyr faults wth shame, they could noe truer last

Then looke, and looke wt ioye for conquest wunn
    of thoſe that ſearch'd your hurt in double kinde;
    ſoe you kept ſafe, lett them themſelues looke blinde
    watch, gaze, and marke till they to madnes runn,

While you, my eyes inioye full ſight of loue
contented that ſuch hapineſses moue

34.

Take heed mine eyes, how you your looks do cast
    Lest* they betray my heart's most secret thought;
    Be true unto your selves for nothing's bought
    More dear than doubt which brings a lover's fast.*

Catch you all watching eyes, ere they be past,
    Or take yours fixed where your best love hath sought
    The pride of your desires; let them be taught
    Their faults with* shame, they could no truer last.*

Then look, and look with joy for conquest won
    Of those that searched your hurt* in double kind;
    So you kept safe, let them themselves look blind
    Watch, gaze, and mark till they to madness run,

While you, my* eyes enjoy full sight of love
    Contented that such happinesses move.


This arresting sonnet offers a resistance on the speaker's part to the prying eyes that attempt to penetrate her defences, and it continues the theme of sonnet 23 [F26/P26], offering a sense of self to resist those who would assert their control over Pamphilia/Wroth.

'Lest': Wroth's 'least' is a variant spelling.
'a lover's fast': there are a number of ambiguous phrases in this sonnet: this might mean that the lover is held fast by doubt, or that there is some sense of the lover fasting/ wasting away with doubt.
'with' = 'for' in P.
'last': in this whole stanza, it is hard to determine exactly who 'they' are, given that they seem to move from being the watching eyes, which are to be resisted, to the speaker's own eyes which have in some sense betrayed her.
'searched your hurt': a vivid image of the vulnerability of the speaker/all women, who might have their 'hurt' (wound) searched (examined) - but this vulnerability is overturned by the strength of the speaker, who ultimately blinds the desperately searching/gazing eyes of those who would look at her; in the end it is she who enjoys 'full sight of love'.
'my' = 'mine' in P.
34.

Take heed mine eyes, how you your looks doe caſt,
    Leſt they betray my hearts moſt ſecret thought:
    Be true vnto your ſelues; for nothing's bought
    More deare then Doubt, which brings a Louers faſt.

Catch you alwatching eyes ere they be paſt,
    Or take yours fix't, where your beſt Loue hath ſought
    The pride of your deſires; let them be taught
    Their faults for ſhame they could no truer laſt.

Then looke, and looke with ioy, for conqueſt won,
    Of thoſe that ſearch'd your hurt in double kinde:
    So you kept ſafe, let them themſelues looke blinde,
    Watch, gaze, and marke till they to madneſſe run.

While you mine eyes enioy full ſight of Loue,
Contented that ſuch happineſſes moue.
34.

Take heed mine eyes, how you your looks do cast
    Lest they betray my heart's most secret thought;
    Be true unto your selves for nothing's bought
    More dear than doubt which brings a lover's fast.

Catch you all watching eyes, ere they be past,
    Or take yours fixed where your best love hath sought
    The pride of your desires; let them be taught
    Their faults for shame, they could no truer last.

Then look, and look with joy for conquest won
    Of those that searched your hurt in double kind;
    So you kept safe, let them themselves look blind
    Watch, gaze, and mark till they to madness run,

While you, mine eyes enjoy full sight of love
    Contented that such happinesses move.


F40 F40mod P95 P95mod

35.

My hart is lost, what can I now expect,
    an eu'ning faire; after a drowſie day?
    (alas) fond phant'ſie this is nott the way
    to cure a morning hurt, or ſaule neglect,

They who should help, doe mee, and help reiect,
    imbraſing looce deſires, and wanton play,
    while Venus bace delights doe beare the ſwaye,
    and impudencie raignes wtout respect;

O Cupid, lett thy mother know her shame
    't'is time for her to leaue this youthfull flame
    wch doth dishoner her, is ages blame,
    and takes away the greatnes of thy name;

Thou God of loue, she only Queene of lust,
yett striues by weakning thee, to bee vniust

35.

My heart is lost, what can I now expect,
    An evening fair after a drowsy day?
    Alas fond fancy, this is not the way
    To cure a mourning* hurt,* or salve* neglect,

They who should help, do me, and help reject,
    Embracing loose desires, and wanton play,
    While Venus'* base delights do bear the sway,
    And impudency reigns without respect;

O Cupid, let thy* mother know her shame
    'Tis time for her to leave this youthful flame
    Which doth dishonour her, is age's blame,
    And takes away the greatness of thy name;

Thou God of love, she only Queen of lust,
    Yet strives by weakening thee, to bee unjust.


Moved in P to fol. 48 [P95].

In this sonnet, the speaker seems in many ways to be superior in her self-knowledge to Venus, who, in the incident recounted here, pursued the youthful, mortal Adonis. In Ovid's version of the myth, later adapted and altered in Shakespeare's poetic treatment in Venus and Adonis, Venus falls in love because Cupid's arrow has scratched her; in Ovid's version Adonis, despite Venus' warnings, is killed by a wild boar while hunting.

'mourning': Wroth writes 'morning' - it is just possible that this is intentional: morning hurt/evening fair, but is more likely to be a mistake for 'mourning'.
'hurt' = 'heart' in P.
'salve': Wroth writes 'saule' which is corrected in P to salve.
'Venus' = 'wanton' in P.
'thy' = 'they' in P.
I.

My heart is loſt, what can I now expect,
    An euening faire after a drowſie day?
    Alas, fond Phant'ſie, this is not the way,
    To cure a mourning heart, or ſalue neglect:

They who ſhould helpe, doe me, and helpe reiect,
    Embracing looſe deſires, and wanton play,
    While wanton baſe delights, doe beare the ſway,
    Aud impudency raignes without reſpect.

O Cupid let they Mother know her ſhame,
    'Tis time for her to leaue this youthfull flame,
    Which doth diſhonor her, is ages blame,
    And takes away the greatnes of thy name.

Thou God of Loue, ſhe only Queene of luſt,
Yet ſtriues by weakning thee, to be vniuſt.
2.1

My heart is lost, what can I now expect,
    An evening fair after a drowsy day?
    Alas fond fancy, this is not the way
    To cure a mourning heart or salve neglect,

They who should help, do me, and help reject,
    Embracing loose desires, and wanton play,
    While wanton base delights do bear the sway,
    And impudency reigns without respect;

O Cupid, let thy* mother know her shame
    'Tis time for her to leave this youthful flame
    Which doth dishonour her, is age's blame,
    And takes away the greatness of thy name;

Thou God of love, she only Queen of lust,
    Yet strives by weakening thee, to bee unjust.


'thy' = corrected from 'they' which is presumably a mis-transcription.

F41 F41mod P97 P97mod

36.

Iuno still iealouſe of her husband Ioue
    defended from aboue on earth to try
    whether she ther could find his choſen loue
    wch made him from the heauen ſo often fly,

Cloſe by the place, wher I for shade did ly
    she chafeing came; butt when she ſaw mee moue
    haue you nott ſeene this way ſayd shee to hy
    one, in whom Vertue neuer ground did proue,

Hee, in whom loue doth breed to stirr more hate,
    courting a wanton Nimph for his delight
    his name is Iupiter, my Lord by fate
    who, for her leaues mee heau'n, his throne, and light,

I ſawe nott him, ſayd I, although heere are
Many in whoſe harts loue hath made like warr

36.

Juno, still jealous of her husband Jove,
    Descended from above, on earth to try
    Whether she there could find his chosen love
    Which made him from the Heaven* so often fly,

Close by the place, where I for shade did lie
    She chafing* came; but when she saw me move
    'Have you not seen this way,' said she 'to hie*
    One in whom virtue never ground did prove,

He in whom love doth breed to stir more hate,
    Courting a wanton Nymph for his delight.
    His name is Jupiter, my Lord by fate,
    Who for her, leaves me, eaven, his throne, and light.'

'I saw not him,'* said I, 'although here are
    Many in whose hearts love hath made like war.'


Juno's pursuit of the wayward Jove is a popular theme derived from Ovid's Metamorphoses. Roberts [P97] notes a parallel in Fulke Greville's Caelica, 11:

    Juno, that on her head Love's livery carried,
    Scorning to wear the marks of Io's pleasure,
    Knew while the boy in Equinoctial tarried.
    His heats would rob the heaven of heavenly treasure.

'heaven' = 'heavens' in P
'chafing' = 'chasing in P: looks life an 'f' in F, but might be intended as a long 's'.
'hie': hurry.
'not him' = 'him not' in P.
3.

Ivno ſtill iealous of her husband Ioue,
    Deſcended from aboue, on earth to try,
    Whether ſhe there could find his choſen Loue,
    Which made him from the Heau'ns ſo often flye.

Cloſe by the place where I for ſhade did lye,
    She chaſing came, but when ſhee ſaw me moue,
    Haue you not ſeene this way (ſaid ſhe) to hye
    One, in whom vertue neuer grownde did proue?

Hee, in whom Loue doth breed, to ſtirre more hate,
    Courting a wanton Nimph for his delight;
    His name is Iupiter, my Lord, by Fate,
    Who for her, leaues Me, Heauen, his Throne, and light.

I ſaw him not (ſaid I) although heere are
Many, in whoſe hearts, Loue hath made like warre,
2.3

Juno still jealous of her husband Jove
    Descended from above, on earth to try
    Whether she there could find his chosen love
    Which made him from the heavens so often fly,

Close by the place, where I for shade did lie
    She chasing came; but when she saw me move
    'Have you not seen this way,' said she 'to hie
    One in whom virtue never ground did prove,

He in whom love doth breed to stir more hate,
    Courting a wanton Nymph for his delight.
    His name is Jupiter, my Lord by fate,
    Who for her, leaves me, heaven, his throne, and light.'

'I saw him not,' said I, 'although here are
    Many in whose hearts love hath made like war.'


F42 F42mod P42 P42mod


Song vj.

You happy bleſsed eyes
wch in that ruling place
haue force both to delight, and to diſgrace,
whoſe light allures and ties
all harts to yor command
O! looke on mee who doe att mercy stand:

'T'is you that rule my lyfe
't'is you my comforts giue;
then lett nott ſcorne o mee my ending driue,
nor lett the frownes of stryfe
haue might to hurt thoſe lights
wch while they shine they are true loues delights;

See butt, when Night appears,
and Sunn hath lost his force
how his loſs doth all ioye from vs diuorce;
And when hee shines, and cleares
the heauns from clowds of night
how happy then is made our gazing ſight,

Butt more then Sunns faire light
your beames doe ſeeme to mee,
whoſe ſweetest lookes doe tye and yett make free;
Why should you then ſoe spite
poore mee as to destroy
the only pleaſure that I taste of ioye?

Shine then, O deerest lights
wth fauor and wth loue,
and lett noe cauſe, yor cauſe of frownings moue
butt as the ſoules delights
ſoe bleſs my then=bleſs'd eyes
wch vnto you theyr true affection tyes.



Then shall the Sunn giue place
as to yor greater might,
yeelding that you doe show more parfect light,
O, then, butt grant this grace
Vnto yor loue=tied slaue
to shine on mee, who to you all fayth gaue;

And when you pleaſe to frowne
then vſe your killing eyes
on them, who in vntruth, and faulcehood lyes;
butt (deare) on mee cast downe
ſweet lookes for true deſire
that bannish doe all thoughts of fayned fire

Song 6

You happy blessed eyes
    Which in that ruling place
    Have force both to delight, and to disgrace,
    Whose light allures and ties
    All hearts to your command
    O! look on me who do at mercy stand:

    'T'is you that rule my life
    'T'is you my comforts give;
    Then let not scorn, O me, my ending drive,
    Nor let the frowns of strife
    Have might to hurt those lights
    Which while they shine they are true love's delights;

See but when Night appears,
    And Sun hath lost his force
    How his loss doth all joy from us divorce;
    And when he shines, and clears
    The heavens from clouds of night
    How happy then is made our gazing sight,

But more than Sun's fair light
    Your beams do seem to me,
    Whose sweetest looks do tie and yet make free;
    Why should you then so spite
    Poor me as to destroy
    The only pleasure that I taste of joy?

Shine then, O dearest lights,
    With favour and with love,
    And let no cause, your cause of frownings move
    But as the soul's delights
    So bless my then-blessed eyes
    Which unto you their true affection ties.

Then shall the Sun give place
    As to your greater might,
    Yielding that you do show more perfect light,
    O then, but grant this grace
    Unto your love-tied slave
    To shine on me, who to you all faith gave;

And when you please to frown
    Then use your* killing eyes
    On them, who in untruth, and falsehood lies;
    But (dear) on me cast down
    Sweet looks for true desire
    That banish do all thoughts of feigned fire.


This song continues the theme of eyes, here (as in some ways a complement to P39) the eyes in a more conventional way register the sight of the lover as a fulfilment of desire. Roberts [P42] notes a parallel between stanza 2 and RS Song 11:

    Thoughts unto me so dear
    As unto you I live,
    Thoughts unto whom I give
    A mind from all else clear.

'then use your' = 'use your most' in P.
Song. 6.

You happy bleſſed eyes,
    Which in that ruling place,
    Haue force both to delight, and to diſgrace;
Whoſe light allures and tyes
    All hearts to your command:
    O looke on me, who doe at mercy ſtand.

'Tis you that rule my life,
    'Tis you my comforts giue,
    Then let not ſcorne to me my ending driue:
Nor let the frownes of ſtrife
    Haue might to hurt thoſe lights;
Which while they ſhine they are true loues delights.

See but when Night appeares
    And Sunne hath loſt his force,
    How his loſſe doth all ioy from vs diuorce:
And when he ſhines, and cleares
    The Heauens from clowdes of Night,
    How happy then is made our gazing ſight?

But more then Sun's faire light
    Your beames doe ſeeme to me,
    Whoſe ſweeteſt lookes doe tye, and yet make free:
Why ſhould you then ſo ſpight
    Poore me? as to deſtroy
    The only pleaſure that I taſte of ioy.

Shine then, O deareſt lights
    With fauour and with loue
    And let no cauſe, your cauſe of frownings moue:
But as the ſoules delights,
    So bleſſe my then bleſt eyes,
    Which vnto you their true affection tyes.

Then ſhall the Sunne giue place,
    As to your greater might,
    Yeelding that you doe ſhow more perfect light.
O then but grant this grace,
    Vnto your Loue-tide ſlaue,
    To ſhine on me, who to you all faith gaue.

And when you pleaſe to frowne,
    Vſe your moſt killing eyes
    On them, who in vntruth and falſhood lies,
But (Deare) on me caſt downe
    Sweet lookes, for true deſire;
    That baniſh doe all thoughts of faigned fire.
Song 6.

You happy blessed eyes
    Which in that ruling place
    Have force both to delight, and to disgrace,
    Whose light allures and ties
    All hearts to your command
    O! look on me who do at mercy stand:

'T'is you that rule my life
    'T'is you my comforts give;
    Then let not scorn, O me, my ending drive,
    Nor let the frowns of strife
    Have might to hurt those lights
    Which while they shine they are true love's delights;

See but when Night appears,
    And Sun hath lost his force
    How his loss doth all joy from us divorce;
    And when he shines, and clears
    The heavens from clouds of night
    How happy then is made our gazing sight,

But more than Sun's fair light
    Your beams do seem to me,
    Whose sweetest looks do tie and yet make free;
    Why should you then so spite
    Poor me as to destroy
    The only pleasure that I taste of joy?

Shine then, O dearest lights,
    With favour and with love,
    And let no cause, your cause of frownings move
    But as the soul's delights
    So bless my then-blessed eyes
    Which unto you their true affection ties.

Then shall the Sun give place
    As to your greater might,
    Yielding that you do show more perfect light,
    O then, but grant this grace
    Unto your love-tied slave
    To shine on me, who to you all faith gave;

And when you please to frown
    Use your most killing eyes
    On them, who in untruth, and falsehood lies;
    But (dear) on me cast down
    Sweet looks for true desire
    That banish do all thoughts of feigned fire.


F43 F43mod P43 P43mod

37.

Night, welcome art thou to my mind destrest
    darke, heauy, ſad, yett nott more ſad then I
    neuer could'st thou find fitter company
    for thine owne humor then I thus oprest.

If thou bee dark, my wrongs still vnredrest
    ſaw neuer light, nor ſmalest bliſs can spy;
    If heauy, ioy from mee too fast doth hy
    and care outgoes my hope of quiett rest,

Then now in freindship ioine wt haples mee,
    who ame as ſad, and dark as thou canst bee
    hating all pleaſure, or delight in lyfe;

Silence, and griefe, wth thee I best doe loue
    and from you three, I know I can nott moue
    Then lett vs liue companions wthout strife

37.

Night, welcome art thou to my mind distressed,
    Dark, heavy, sad, yet not more sad than I;
    Never could'st thou find fitter company
    For thine own humour then I thus oppressed.

If thou be* dark, my wrongs still unredressed
    Saw never light, nor smallest bliss can spy;
    If heavy, joy from me too fast doth hie
    And care outgoes my hope of quiet rest,

Then now in friendship join with hapless me,
    Who am as sad, and dark as thou canst bee
    Hating all pleasure, or delight in* life;

Silence, and grief, with thee I best do love
    And from you three, I know I cannot move.
    Then let us live companions without strife.


This sonnet in praise of night harks back to the opening sonnet ('When night's black mantle could most darkness prove') and other evocations, such as [P13]. Roberts notes that the trio specifically addressed here, night, silence and grief, feature in AS 96:

    Thought, with good cause thou lik'st so well the night,
    Since kind or chance gives both one livery,
    Both sadly black, both blackly darkened be;
    Night bard from Sun, thou from thy own sunlight;
    Silence in both displays his sullen might;
    Slow heaviness in both holds one degree
    That full of doubts, thou of perplexity;
    Thy tears express Night's native moisture right

In P rearranged to form three quatrains and a couplet.

'bee' = 'beest' in P.
'in' = 'of' in P.
37.

Night, welcome art thou to my minde diſtreſt,
    Darke, heauy, ſad, yet not more ſad then I:
    Neuer could'ſt thou finde fitter company
    For thine owne humour, then I thus oppreſt.

If thou beeſt darke, my wrongs ſtill vnredreſt
    Saw neuer light, nor ſmalleſt bliſſe can ſpye:
    If heauy ioy from mee to faſt doth hie,
    And care out-goes my hope of quiet reſt.

Then now in friendſhip ioyne with hapleſſe me,
    Who am as ſad and darke as thou canſt be,
    Hating all pleaſure or delight of life,
    Silence and griefe, with thee I beſt doe loue.

And from you three I know I cannot moue,
Then let vs liue companions without ſtrife.
37.

Night, welcome art thou to my mind distressed,
    Dark, heavy, sad, yet not more sad than I;
    Never could'st thou find fitter company
    For thine own humour then I thus oppressed.

If thou beest dark, my wrongs still unredressed
    Saw never light, nor smallest bliss can spy;
    If heavy, joy from me too fast doth hie
    And care outgoes my hope of quiet rest,

Then now in friendship join with hapless me,
    Who am as sad, and dark as thou canst bee
    Hating all pleasure, or delight of life;
    Silence, and grief, with thee I best do love

And from you three, I know I cannot move.
    Then let us live companions without strife.


F44 F44mod P44 P44mod

38

What pleaſure can a bannish'd creature haue
    in all the pastimes that inuented arr
    by witt or learning, abſence making warr
    against all peace that may a biding craue;

Can wee delight butt in a wellcome graue
    wher wee may bury paines, and ſoe bee farr
    from lothed company who allways iarr
    vpon the string of mirthe that pastime gaue;

The knowing part of ioye is deem'd the hart
    if that bee gon what ioy can ioy impart
    when ſencleſs is the feeler of our mirth;

Noe, I ame bannish'd, and no good shall find
    butt all my fortunes must wth miſchief bind
    Who butt for miſerie did gaine a birth;

38.

What pleasure can a banished creature have
    In all the pastimes that invented are
    By wit or learning, absence making war
    Against all peace that may a biding* crave;

Can we delight but in a welcome grave
    Where we may bury pains, and so be far
    From loathed company who always jar
    Upon the string of mirth that pastime gave;

The knowing part of joy is deemed the heart,
    If that be gone what joy can joy impart
    When senseless is the feeler of our mirth?

No, I am banished, and no good shall find
    But all my fortunes must with mischief bind,
    Who but for misery did gain a birth.


Roberts notes the idea of being alone in company in AS 27: 'Because I oft in dark abstracted guise/Seem most alone in greatest company'. But Astrophil goes on to talk of this leading to him being mistaken as proud, while in Wroth's rather darker sonnet Pamphilia is not only alone, but bereft of all feeling.

'biding': a home.
38.

What pleaſure can a baniſh'd creature haue
    In all the paſtimes that inuented are
    By wit or learning? Abſence making warre
    Againſt all peace that may a biding craue.

Can wee delight but in a welcome graue,
    Where we may bury paines? and ſo be farre
    From loathed company, who alwaies iarre
    Vpon the ſtring of mirth that paſtime gaue.

The knowing part of ioy is deem'd the heart,
    If that be gone what ioy can ioy impart
    When ſenſleſſe is the feeler of our mirth?

No, I am baniſh'd and no good ſhall finde,
    But all my fortunes muſt with miſchiefe binde;
    Who but for miſery did gaine a birth.
38.

What pleasure can a banished creature have
    In all the pastimes that invented are
    By wit or learning, absence making war
    Against all peace that may a biding crave;

Can we delight but in a welcome grave
    Where we may bury pains, and so be far
    From loathed company who always jar
    Upon the string of mirth that pastime gave;

The knowing part of joy is deemed the heart,
    If that be gone what joy can joy impart
    When senseless is the feeler of our mirth?

No, I am banished, and no good shall find
    But all my fortunes must with mischief bind,
    Who but for misery did gain a birth.


F45 F45mod P45 P45mod

39.

Iff I were giu'n to mirthe 't'wowld bee more croſs
    thus to bee robbed of my chiefest ioy;
    butt ſilently I beare my greatest loſs
    Who's vſ'd to ſorrow, griefe will nott destroy;

Nor can I as thes pleaſant witts inioy
    my owne fram'd words, wch I account the droſs
    of purer thoughts, or recken them as moſs
    while they (witt ſick) them ſelues to breath imploy,

Alas, think I, yor plenty shewes your want,
    for wher most feeling is, words are more ſcant,
    yett pardon mee, Liue, and your pleaſure take,

Grudg nott, if I neglected, enuy show
    't'is nott to you that I dislike doe owe
    butt crost my ſelf, wish ſome like mee to make

39.

If I were given to mirth 'twould be more cross
    Thus to bee robbed of my chiefest joy;
    But silently I bear my greatest loss:
    Who's used to sorrow, grief will not destroy;

Nor can I as these* pleasant wits enjoy
    My own framed words, which I account the dross
    Of purer thoughts, or reckon them as moss
    While they (wit-sick) themselves to breathe employ,

Alas, think I, your plenty shows your want,
    For where most feeling is, words are more scant,
    Yet pardon me, live, and your pleasure take,

Grudge not if I, neglected, envy show
    'Tis not to you that I dislike do owe,
    But crossed myself, wish some like me to make.


This sonnet follows a theme in AS: a contrast between the ability to speak and the way that despair rends one silent: yet this is a paradox because a sonnet is itself the product of wit, however much it may depict a lover in a state of speechless despair. So, for example, AS 50:

    Stella, the fullness of my thoughts of thee
    Cannot be staid within my panting breast,
    But they do swell and struggle forth of me,
    Till that in words thy figure be expressed:
    And yet, as soon as they so formed be,
    According to my lord Love's own behest,
    With sad eyes I their weak proportion see
    To portrait that which in this world is best.
    So that I cannot choose but write my mind,
    And cannot choose but put out what I write,
    While these poor babes their death in birth do find;
    And now my pen these lines had dashed quite
    But that they stopt his fury from the same,
    Because their forefront bare sweet Stella's name.

'these' = 'those' in P.
39.

If I were giuen to mirth, ,twould be more croſſe,
    Thus to be robbed of my chiefeſt ioy:
    But ſilently I beare my greateſt loſſe;
    Who's vs'd to ſorrow, griefe will not deſtroy.

Nor can I as thoſe pleaſant wits inioy
    My owne fram'd wordes which I account the droſſe
    Of purer thoughts, or reckon them as moſſe;
    While they (wit-ſick) themſelues to breath imploy.

Alas, thinke I, your plenty ſhewes your want;
    For where moſt feeling is wordes are more ſcant;
    Yet pardon me, liue and your pleaſure take.

Grudge not if I (neglected) enuy ſhow,
    'Tis not to you that I diſlike doe owe;
    But (croſt my ſelfe) wiſh ſome like me to make.
39.

If I were given to mirth 'twould be more cross
    Thus to bee robbed of my chiefest joy;
    But silently I bear my greatest loss:
    Who's used to sorrow, grief will not destroy;

Nor can I as those pleasant wits enjoy
    My own framed words, which I account the dross
    Of purer thoughts, or reckon them as moss
    While they (wit-sick) themselves to breathe employ,

Alas, think I, your plenty shows your want,
    For where most feeling is, words are more scant,
    Yet pardon me, live, and your pleasure take,

Grudge not if I, neglected, envy show
    'Tis not to you that I dislike do owe,
    But crossed myself, wish some like me to make.


F46 F46mod P46 P46mod

40.

Itt is nott loue which you poore fooles do deeme
    that doth apeare by fond, and outward showes
    of kiſsing, toying, or by ſwearings gloſe
    o noe thes farr are of from loues esteeme;

Alas thes ar nott them that can redeeme
    loue lost, or wining keepe thoſe choſen blowes
    though oft wt face, and lookes loue ouerthrowſe
    yett ſoe ſlight conquest doth nott him beeſeeme,

'T'is nott a showe of ſighes, or teares can proue
    who loues indeed: which blasts of fained loue
    increaſe, or dy as fauors from them slide;

Butt in the ſoule true loue in ſafety lies
    guarded by faith wch to deſart still hies,
    and yett true lookes doe many bleſsing hide

40.

It is not love which you poor fools do deem
    That doth appear by fond and outward shows
    Of kissing, toying, or by swearing's gloze.*
    O no, these far are off* from love's esteem;

Alas, these* are not them* that can redeem
    Love lost, or winning, keep those chosen blows
    Though oft with face and looks love overthrows
    Yet so slight conquest doth not him beseem,

'T'is not a show of sighs, or tears can prove
    Who loves indeed: which blasts of feigned love
    Increase, or die as favours from them slide;

But in the soul true love in safety lies
    Guarded by faith which to desert still hies,
    And yet true* looks do many blessing* hide.


The difference between 'true' love and those who protest they love again has its seeds in AS; this is another paradox: that the expression of love is generally insincere, but this is couched within a poetic expression of love. (It is particularly appropriate that Wroth's careful revision, especially of the last line, improves that point.)

'gloze': deceitful flattery.
'are off' = 'are far off' in P.
'these' = 'they' in P.
'them' = 'such' in P.
'true' = 'kind' in P.
'blessing' = 'blessings' in P.
40.

It is not Loue which you poore fooles doe deeme,
    That doth appeare by fond and outward ſhowes,
    Of kiſſing, toying, or by ſwearings gloze:
    O no, theſe are farre off from loues eſteeme.

Alas, they are not ſuch that can redeeme
    Loue loſt, or winning keepe thoſe choſen blowes:
    Though oft with face and lookes loue ouerthrowes;
    Yet ſo ſlight conqueſt doth not him beſeeme.

'Tis not a ſhew of ſighes or teares can proue
    Who loues indeed, which blaſts of faigned loue,
    Increaſe or dye, as fauours from them ſlide.

But in the ſoule true loue in ſafety lies
    Guarded by faith, which to deſert ſtill hies:
    And yet kinde lookes do many bleſſings hide.
40.

It is not love which you poor fools do deem
    That doth appear by fond and outward shows
    Of kissing, toying, or by swearing's gloze.
    O no, these far are off from love's esteem;

Alas, they are not such that can redeem
    Love lost, or winning, keep those chosen blows
    Though oft with face and looks love overthrows
    Yet so slight conquest doth not him beseem,

'T'is not a show of sighs, or tears can prove
    Who loves indeed: which blasts of feigned love
    Increase, or die as favours from them slide;

But in the soul true love in safety lies
    Guarded by faith which to desert still hies,
    And yet kind looks do many blessings hide.


F47 F47mod P96 P96mod

41.

Late in the Forest I did Cupid ſee
    colde, wett, and crying hee had lost his way,
    and beeing blind was farder like to stray:
    wch ſight a kind compaſsion bred in mee,

I kindly tooke, and dride him, while that hee
    poore child complain'd hee sterued was wt stay,
    and pin'de for want of his accustom'd pray,
    for non in that wilde place his hoste would bee,

I glad was of his finding, thinking ſure
    this ſeruice should my freedome still procure
    and in my armes I tooke him then vnharm'de,

Carrying him vnto a Mirtle bowre
    butt in the way hee made mee feele, his powre,
    burning my hart who had him kindly warmd

F 41.

Late in the forest I did Cupid see
    Cold, wet, and crying, he had lost his way,
    And being blind was farther like to stray:
    Which sight a kind compassion bred in me,

I kindly took and dried him, while that he,
    Poor child, complained he starved was with stay,
    And pined for want of his accustomed prey,
    For none in that wild place his host would be,

I glad was of his finding, thinking sure
    This service should my freedom still procure
    And in my arms I took him then unharmed

Carrying him* unto a myrtle bower
    But in the way he made me feel, his power,
    Burning my heart who had him kindly warmed.


Like [P8], this sonnet relies upon a humorous depiction of Cupid to convey a more serious message about Pamphilia's entrapment by desire. Roberts [P96] notes that this is a common depiction of Cupid and cites numerous examples, including AS 65:

    For when, naked Boy, thou couldst no harbour find
    In this old world, grown now so too, too wise,
    I lodged thee in my heart, and being blind
    By nature borne, I gave to thee mine eyes.

See also Greville's Caelica 12:

    Cupid, thou naughty boy, when thou wert loathed,
    Naked and blind, for vagabonding noted,
    Thy nakedness I in my reason clothed,
    Mine eyes I gave thee, so was I devoted.

Moved to fol. 49 in P.

'him': P adds 'safe' = 'him safe'.
2.

Late in the Forreſt I did Cupid ſee
    Cold, wett, and crying, he had loſt his way,
    And being blinde was farther like to ſtray;
    Which ſight, a kind compaſſion bred in me.

I kindly tooke, and dry'd him, while that he,
    (Poore Child) complain'd, he ſterued was with ſtay
    And pin'd for want of his accuſtom'd prey,
    For none in that wilde place his Hoſt would be.

I glad was of his finding, thinking ſure,
    This ſeruice ſhould my freedome ſtill procure,
    And in my armes I tooke him then vnharm'd,

Carrying him ſafe vnto a Myrtle bowre,
    But in the way he made me, feele his powre,
    Burning my heart, who had him kindly warm'd.
2.2

Late in the forest I did Cupid see
    Cold, wet, and crying, he had lost his way,
    And being blind was farther like to stray:
    Which sight a kind compassion bred in me,

I kindly took and dried him, while that he,
    Poor child, complained he starved was with stay,
    And pined for want of his accustomed prey,
    For none in that wild place his host would be,

I glad was of his finding, thinking sure
    This service should my freedom still procure
    And in my arms I took him then unharmed

Carrying him safe unto a myrtle bower
    But in the way he made me feel, his power,
    Burning my heart who had him kindly warmed.


F48 F48mod P48 P48mod

42.

If euer loue had force in humaine breſt?
    If euer hee could moue in penſiue hart?
    or if that hee ſuch powre could butt impart
    to breed thoſe flames whoſe heat brings ioys vnrest

Then looke on mee; I ame to thes adrest,
    I, ame the ſoule that feeles the greatest ſmart;
    I, ame that body liues depriu'd of hart;
    I, ame that hartles trunk of harts depart;
    and I, that one, by loue, and griefe oprest;

Non euer felt the truth of loues great miſs
    of eyes, till I depriued was of bliſs;
    for had hee ſeene, hee must haue pitty show'd

I should nott haue bin made the stage of woe
    wher ſad diſasters haue theyr open showe
    O noe, more pitty hee had ſure beestow'd

42.

If ever love had force in human breast,
    If ever he could move in pensive heart,
    Or if that he such power could but impart
    To breed those flames whose heat brings joy's unrest,

Then look on me; I am to these addressed:
    I am the soul that feels the greatest smart;
    I am that heartless trunk of heart's depart;*
    And I that one by love and grief oppressed;

None ever felt the truth of love's great miss
    Of eyes,* till I deprived was of bliss;
    For had he seen, he must have pity showed,

I should not have been made the* stage of woe
    Where sad disasters have their open show;
    O no, more pity he had sure bestowed.


While the concluding image of the stage is virtually an early modern cliché, Roberts [P48] notes a specific parallel in Greville's Caelica, sonnet 9: 'For sorrow holds man's life to be her own,/His thoughts her stage, where tragedies she plays'.

'I am that heartless trunk of heart's depart': replacement for the crossed out: 'I am that body lives deprived of heart'.
'miss of eyes': ie Cupid's blindness
'the' = 'this' in P.
42.

If euer loue had force in humane breſt,
    If euer he could moue in penſiue heart:
    Or if that he ſuch powre could but impart
    To breed thoſe flames, whoſe heat brings ioyes vnreſt.

Then looke on me; I am to theſe adreſt,
    I am the ſoule that feeles the greateſt ſmart:
    I am that heartleſſe Trunck of hearts depart;
    And I that One, by loue, and griefe oppreſt.

None euer felt the truth of loues great miſſe
    Of eyes till I depriued was of bliſſe;
    For had he ſeene, he muſt haue pitty ſhow'd.

I ſhould not haue beene made this Stage of woe,
    Where ſad Diſaſters haue their open ſhow:
    O no, more pitty he had ſure beſtow'd.
42.

If ever love had force in human breast,
    If ever he could move in pensive heart,
    Or if that he such power could but impart
    To breed those flames whose heat brings joy's unrest,

Then look on me; I am to these addressed:
    I am the soul that feels the greatest smart;
    I am that heartless trunk of heart's depart;
    And I that one by love and grief oppressed;

None ever felt the truth of love's great miss
    Of eyes, till I deprived was of bliss;
    For had he seen, he must have pity showed,

I should not have been made this stage of woe
    Where sad disasters have their open show;
    O no, more pity he had sure bestowed.


F49 F49mod P49 P49mod

Song vij.

Sorrow, I yeeld, and greiue that I did miſs:
will nott thy rage bee ſatiſfied wth this?
        As ſad a Diuell as thee,
        made mee vnhapy bee.
Wilt thou nott yett conſent to leaue, butt still
striue how to showe thy curſed, deuilsh skill;

I mourne, and dying am; what would you more?
my ſoule attends, to leaue this wreched shore.
        Wher harmes doe only flow
        wch teach mee butt to know
The ſadest howres of my liues vnrest,
and tired minutes wth griefs hand oprest:

Yett all this will nott pacefy thy spite;
no, nothing can bring eaſe butt my last night.
        then quickly lett itt bee
        while I vnhappy ſee
That time, ſoe sparing to grant louers bliſs
will ſee for time lost, ther shall noe grief miſs.

Nor lett mee euer ceaſe from lasting griefe,
butt endleſs lett itt bee wtout reliefe:
        To winn againe of loue,
        the fauor I did proue;
And wth my end pleaſe him: ſince liuing I
haue him offended, yett vnwillingly

Song 7.

Sorrow, I yield, and grieve that I did miss:
    Will not thy rage be satisfied with this?
    As sad a Devil as thee,
    Made me unhappy be.
    Wilt thou not yet consent to leave, but still
    Strive how to show thy cursed, devilish skill;

I mourn, and dying am; what would you more?
    My soul attends to leave this wretched* shore
    Where harms do only flow
    Which teach me but to know
    The saddest hours of my life's unrest,
    And tired minutes with grief's hand oppressed:

Yet all this will not pacify thy spite;
    No, nothing can bring ease but my last night.
    Then quickly let it be
    While I unhappy see
    That Time, so sparing to grant lovers bliss,
    Will see for time lost, there shall no grief miss.

Nor let me ever cease from lasting grief,
    But endless let it be without relief:
    To win again of love,
    The favour I did prove,
    And with my end please him, since living* I
    Have him offended, yet unwillingly.


This is an almost metaphysical song, which, like many of Greville's lyrics, turns upon a series of paradoxes.

'wretched' = 'cursed' in P.
'living' = 'dying' in P. This is a fascinating revision which, given the paradoxes that run through this song, underlines the 'dying' idea from the second stanza, yet 'living' is also apt as the song sees the life the speaker leads as offending love and not really a worthy life.
Song. 7.

Sorrow, I yeeld, and grieue that I did miſſe;
Will not thy rage be ſatisfied with this?
        As ſad a Diuell as thee,
        Made me vnhappy be:
Wilt thou not yet conſent to leaue, but ſtill
Striue how to ſhow thy curſed diueliſh skill?

I mourne, and dying am, what would you more?
My ſoule attends, to leaue this curſed ſhoare
        Where harmes doe onely flow,
        Which teach me but to know
The ſaddeſt houres of my lifes vnreſt,
And tyred minutes with griefes hand oppreſt.

Yet all this will not pacifie thy ſpight,
No, nothing can bring eaſe but my laſt night,
        Then quickely let it be,
        While I vnhappy ſee
That time ſo ſparing, to grant Louers bliſſe,
Will ſee for time loſt, there ſhall no griefe miſſe.

Nor let me euer ceaſe from laſting griefe,
But endleſſe let it be without reliefe;
        To winn againe of Loue,
        The fauour I did proone,
And with my end pleaſe him, ſince dying, I
Haue him offended, yet vnwillingly.
Song 7.

Sorrow, I yield, and grieve that I did miss:
    Will not thy rage be satisfied with this?
    As sad a Devil as thee,
    Made me unhappy be.
    Wilt thou not yet consent to leave, but still
    Strive how to show thy cursed, devilish skill;

I mourn, and dying am; what would you more?
    My soul attends to leave this cursed shore
    Where harms do only flow
    Which teach me but to know
    The saddest hours of my life's unrest,
    And tired minutes with grief's hand oppressed:

Yet all this will not pacify thy spite;
    No, nothing can bring ease but my last night.
    Then quickly let it be
    While I unhappy see
    That Time, so sparing to grant lovers bliss,
    Will see for time lost, there shall no grief miss.

Nor let me ever cease from lasting grief,
    But endless let it be without relief:
    To win again of love,
    The favour I did prove,
    And with my end please him, since dying I
    Have him offended, yet unwillingly.


F50 F50mod P50 P50mod

43.

O dearest eyes the lights, and guids of loue,
    the ioyes of Cupid who himſelf borne blind
    to yor bright shining doth his triumphs bind
    for in yor ſeeing doth his glory moue;

How happy are thoſe places wher you proue
    yor heaunly beames, wch makes the Sun to find
    enuy, and grudging hee ſoe long hath shind
    now to bee match'd on earth wher you doe moue
    that your cleer light showld mach his beames aboue

Butt now, Alas, your ſight is heere forbid
    and darknes must thes poore lost roomes poſseſs
    ſoe bee all bleſsed lights from henceforth hid
    that this black deed in darcknes haue exceſs,

For why should heauen afford least light to thoſe
who for my miſery this darcknes choſe

43.

O dearest eyes the lights, and guides of love,
    The joys of Cupid who, himself born blind,
    To your bright shining doth his triumphs bind
    For in your seeing doth his glory move;

How happy are those places where you prove
    Your heavenly beams, which makes the Sun to find
    Envy, and grudging he so long hath shined
    That your clear light should match his beams above*

But now, alas, your sight is here forbid
    And darkness must these poor lost rooms possess
    So be all blessed lights from henceforth hid
    That this black deed in* darkness have excess,*

For why should heaven afford least light to those
    Who for my misery this* darkness chose.


This sonnet continues the themes of sight/blindess/Cupid/darkness and the miseries of unrequited desire.

'that your clear light should match his beams above': = 'for your clear lights to match his beams above' in P; this lines replaces 'now to be matched on earth where you do move', which has been crossed through.
'in' = 'of' in P.
'excess': perhaps meaning access in this context.
'this': = 'such' in P. In F this word is heavily crossed through.
43.

O Deareſt eyes, the lights, and guides of Loue,
    The ioyes of Cupid, who himſelfe borne blinde,
    To your bright ſhining, doth his tryumphs binde;
    For, in your ſeeing doth his glory moue.

How happy are thoſe places where you prooue
    Your heauenly beames, which makes the Sun to find
    Enuy and grudging, he ſo long hath ſhin'd
    For your cleare lights, to match his beames aboue.

But now alas, your ſight is heere forbid,
    And darkenes muſt theſe poore loſt roomes poſſeſſe,
    So be all bleſſed lights from henceforth hid,
    That this blacke deede of darkeneſſe haue exceſſe.

For why ſhould Heauen affoord leaſt light to thoſe,
Who for my miſery ſuch darkeneſſe choſe.
43.

O dearest eyes the lights, and guides of love,
    The joys of Cupid who, himself born blind,
    To your bright shining doth his triumphs bind
    For in your seeing doth his glory move;

How happy are those places where you prove
    Your heavenly beams, which makes the Sun to find
    Envy, and grudging he so long hath shined
    For your clear lights to match his beams above.

But now, alas, your sight is here forbid
    And darkness must these poor lost rooms possess
    So be all blessed lights from henceforth hid
    That this black deed of darkness have excess,

For why should heaven afford least light to those
    Who for my misery such darkness chose.


F51 F51mod P51 P51mod

44.

How fast thou hast'st (o spring) wt ſwiftest speed
    to catch thy waters wch befor are runn,
    and of the greater riuers wellcom wunn,
    'ere thes thy new borne streames thes places feed,

Yett doe yow well least staying heere might breed
    dangerous floods yor ſweetest banks t'o'rerunn,
    and yett much better my distreſs to shunn
    wch makes my teares butt yor courſe to ſucceed,

Butt best you doe when wth ſoe hasty flight,
    you fly my ills wch now my ſelf outgoe,
    whoſe broken hart can testify ſuch woe,
    wch ſoe o'recharg'd my lyfe blood wasteth quite

Sweet spring then keepe your way, Bee neuer spent
and my ill days, or griefs aſsunder rent

44.

How fast thou hastest (O Spring) with swiftest* speed
    To catch thy waters* which before are run,
    And of the greater rivers welcome won,
    Ere these thy new-born streams these places feed,

Yet do you* well lest staying here might breed
    Dangerous floods your sweetest banks t' o'er-run,
    And yet much better my distress to shun
    Which makes my tears but your course to* succeed,

But best you do when with so hasty flight,
    You fly my ills which now my self outgo,
    Whose broken heart can testify such woe,
    Which* so o'ercharged my life blood wasteth quite

Sweet spring then keep your way, be never spent
    And my ill days, or griefs asunder rent.


'swiftest': = 'sweetest' in P.
'waters' = 'water' in P.
'do you' = 'you do' in P.
'but your course to': = 'your swiftest course' in P.
'which' = 'that' in P.
44.

How faſt thou haſt ſt O Spring with ſweeteſt ſpeed)
    To catch thy water which before are runne,
    And of the greater Riuers welcome woone,
    Ere theſe thy new-borne ſtreames theſe places feede.

Yet you doe well, leſt ſtaying here might breede
    Dangerous flouds, your ſweeteſt bankes t'orerunn,
    And yet much better my diſtreſſe to ſhunn,
    Which maks my tears your ſwifteſt courſe ſucceed.

But beſt you doe when with ſo haſty flight
    You fly my ills, which now my ſelfe outgoe,
    Whoſe broken heart can teſtifie ſuch woe,
    That ſo orecharg'd, my life-bloud, waſteth quite.

Sweet Spring then keepe your way be neuer ſpent,
And my ill dayes, or griefes, aſſunder rent.
44.

How fast thou hastest (O Spring) with sweetest speed
    to catch thy water which before are run,
    and of the greater rivers welcome won,
    'ere these thy new-born streams these places feed,

Yet you do well lest staying here might breed
    dangerous floods your sweetest banks t' o'er-run,
    and yet much better my distress to shun
    which makes my tears your swiftest course succeed,

But best you do when with so hasty flight,
    you fly my ills which now my self outgo,
    whose broken heart can testify such woe,
    that so o'ercharged my life blood wasteth quite

Sweet spring then keep your way, be never spent
    and my ill days, or griefs asunder rent.


F52 F52mod P52 P52mod

45.

Good now bee still, and doe nott mee torment
    wt multituds of questions, bee att rest,
    and only lett mee quarrell wt my brest
    wch still letts in new stormes my ſoule to rent;

Fy, will you still my miſchiefs more augment?
    you ſay I anſwere croſs, I that confest
    long ſince, yett must I euer bee oprest
    wth yor toungue torture wch will ne're bee spent?

Well then I ſee noe way butt this will fright
    that Diuell speach; Alas I ame poſsest,
    and mad folks ſenceles ar of wiſdomes right,

The hellish spiritt abſence doth arest
    all my poore ſences to his cruell might
    spare mee then till I ame my ſelf, and blest

45.

Good now be still, and do not me torment
    With multitudes* of questions; be at rest,
    And only let me quarrel with my breast
    Which still lets in new storms my soul to rent.

Fie, will you still my mischiefs more augment?
    You say I answer cross, I that confessed
    Long since, yet must I ever be oppressed
    With your tongue-torture which will ne'er be spent?

Well then I see no way but this will fright
    That Devil speech; alas I am possessed,
    And mad folks senseless are of wisdom's right,

The hellish spirit absence doth arrest
    All my poor senses to his cruel might;
    Spare me then till I am myself, and blest.


'multitudes' = 'multitude' in P.

Roberts [P52] notes a parallel with AS 14:

    Alas, have I not pain enough, my friend,
    Upon whose breast a fiercer grip doth tire
    Than did on him who first stale down the fire,
    While Love on me doth all his quiver spend,
    But with your rhubarb words ye must contend
    To grieve me worse
45.

Good now be ſtill, and doe not me torment,
    With multitude of queſtions, be at reſt,
    And onely let me quarrell with my breaſt,
    Which ſtil lets in new ſtormes my ſoule to rent.

Fye, will you ſtill my miſchiefes more augment?
    You ſay, I anſwere croſſe, I that confeſt
    Long ſince, yet muſt I euer be oppreſt,
    With your tongue torture which wil ne're be ſpent?

Well then I ſee no way but this will fright,
    That Deuill ſpeech; alas, I am poſſeſt,
    And madd folkes ſenſeles are of wiſdomes right,

The helliſh ſpirit, Abſence, doth arreſt.
    All my poore ſenſes to his cruell might,
    Spare me then till I am my ſelfe, and bleſt
45.

Good now be still, and do not me torment
    With multitude of questions; be at rest,
    And only let me quarrel with my breast
    Which still lets in new storms my soul to rent.

Fie, will you still my mischiefs more augment?
    You say I answer cross, I that confessed
    Long since, yet must I ever be oppressed
    With your tongue-torture which will ne'er be spent?

Well then I see no way but this will fright
    That Devil speech; alas I am possessed,
    And mad folks senseless are of wisdom's right,

The hellish spirit absence doth arrest
    All my poor senses to his cruel might;
    Spare me then till I am myself, and blest.


F53 F53mod P53 P53mod

46.

Loue, thou hast all, for now thou hast mee made
    ſoe thine, as if for thee I were ordain'd;
    then take thy conquest, nor lett mee bee pain'd
    more in thy Sunn, when I doe ſeeke thy shade,

Noe place for help haue I left to inuade,
    that show'de a face wher least eaſe might bee gain'd;
    yett found I paine increaſe, and butt obtain'd
    that this noe way was to haue loue allayd,

When hott, and thirsty to a well I came
    trusting by that to quench part of my flame,
    butt ther I was by loue afresh imbrac'd;

Drinke I could nott, butt in itt I did ſee
    my ſelf a liuing glaſs as well as shee
    for loue to ſee him ſelf in truly plac'd;

46.

Love, thou hast all, for now thou hast me made
    So thine, as if for thee I were ordained;
    Then take thy conquest, nor let me be pained
    More in thy sun, when I do seek thy shade,
    No place for help have I left to invade,
    That showed a face where least ease might be gained;
    Yet found I pain increase, and but obtained
    That this no way was to have love allayed,

When hot, and thirsty to a well I came
    Trusting by that to quench part of my flame,*
    But there I was by Love afresh embraced;

Drink I could not, but in it I did see
    Myself a living glass* as well as she,
    For Love to see himself in, truly placed.


'flame': = 'pain' in P.
glass: mirror.
46.

Loue thou haſt all, for now thou haſt me made
    So thine, as if for thee I were ordain'd,
    Then take thy conqueſt, nor let me be pain'd
    More in thy Sunne, when I doe ſeeke thy ſhade.

No place for helpe haue I left to inuade,
    That ſhew'd a face where leaſt eaſe might be gain'd;
    Yet found I paine increaſe, and but obtain'd,
    That this no way was to haue loue allay'd

When hott, and thirſty, to a Well I came,
    Truſting by that to quench part of my paine,
    But there I was by Loue afreſh imbrac'd

Drinke I could not, but in it I did ſee
    My ſelfe a liuing glaſſe as well as ſhee;
    For loue to ſee himſelfe in, truely plac'd.
46.

Love, thou hast all, for now thou hast me made
    So thine, as if for thee I were ordained;
    Then take thy conquest, nor let me be pained
    More in thy sun, when I do seek thy shade,
    No place for help have I left to invade,
    That showed a face where least ease might be gained;
    Yet found I pain increase, and but obtained
    That this no way was to have love allayed,

When hot, and thirsty to a well I came
    Trusting by that to quench part of my pain,
    But there I was by Love afresh embraced;

Drink I could not, but in it I did see
    Myself a living glass as well as she,
    For Love to see himself in, truly placed.


F54 F54mod P54 P54mod

47.

O stay mine eyes, shed nott thes fruitles teares
    ſince hope is past to win you back againe
    that treaſure wch beeing lost breeds all yor paine,
    ceaſe from this poore betraying of yor feares,

Think this to childish is, for wher griefe reares
    ſoe high a powre, for ſuch a wreched gaine;
    ſighs, nor laments should thus bee spent in vaine:
    true ſorrow, neuer outward wayling beares;

Bee rul'd by mee, keepe all the rest in store,
    till noe roome is that may containe one more,
    then in that ſea of teares, drowne haples mee,

And I'le prouide ſuch store of ſighs as part
    shalbee enough to breake the strongest hart,
    This dunn, wee shall from torments freed bee

47.

O stay mine eyes, shed not these fruitless tears
    Since hope is past to win you back again
    That treasure which, being lost, breeds all your pain;
    Cease from this poor betraying of your fears,

Think this too childish is, for where grief rears
    So high a power for such a wretched gain,
    Sighs, nor laments, should thus be spent in vain:
    True sorrow, never outward wailing bears;

Be ruled by me, keep all the rest in store,
    Till no room is that may contain one more,
    Then in that sea of tears, drown hapless me,

And I'll provide such store of sighs as part
    Shall be enough to break the strongest heart.
    This done, we shall from torments freed be.


Tears are prominent throughout the sonnet tradition, as in AS 100: 'O tears! no tears, but rain, from Beauties skies', here again they are subject to Pamphilia's desire to conceal her emotions.
47.

O Stay mine eyes, ſhed not theſe fruitleſſe teares,
    Since hope is paſt to win you back againe,
    That treaſure which being loſt breeds all your paine;
    Ceaſe from this poore betraying of your feares.

Thinke this too childiſh is, for where griefe reares
    So high a powre for ſuch a wretched gaine:
    Sighes nor laments ſhould thus be ſpent in vaine;
    True ſorrow neuer outward wailing beares.

Be rul'd by me, keepe all the reſt in ſtore,
    Till no roome is that may containe one more;
    Then in that Sea of teares drowne hapleſſe me,

And Ile prouide ſuch ſtore of ſighes, as part
    Shall be enough to breake the ſtrongeſt heart:
    This done, we ſhall from torments freed be.
47.

O stay mine eyes, shed not these fruitless tears
    Since hope is past to win you back again
    That treasure which, being lost, breeds all your pain;
    Cease from this poor betraying of your fears,

Think this too childish is, for where grief rears
    So high a power for such a wretched gain,
    Sighs, nor laments, should thus be spent in vain:
    True sorrow, never outward wailing bears;

Be ruled by me, keep all the rest in store,
    Till no room is that may contain one more,
    Then in that sea of tears, drown hapless me,

And I'll provide such store of sighs as part
    Shall be enough to break the strongest heart.
    This done, we shall from torments freed be.


F55 F55mod P55 P55mod

48.

How like a fire doth loue increaſe in mee,
    the longer that itt lasts, the stronger still,
    the greater purer, brighter, and doth fill
    noe eye wt wunder more, then hopes still bee

bred in my brest, wher fires of loue are free
    to vſe that part to theyr best pleaſing will,
    and now impoſsible itt is to kill
    the heat ſoe great wher Loue his strength doth ſee.

Mine eyes can ſcarce ſustaine the flames my hart
    doth trust in them my longings to impart,
    and languishingly striue to show my loue;

My breath nott able is to breathe least part
    of that increaſing fuell of my ſmart;
    yett loue I will till I butt ashes proue



Pamphilia


48.

How like a fire doth love increase in me,
    The longer that it lasts, the stronger still,
    The greater, purer, brighter, and doth fill
    No eye with wonder more; then hopes still be

Bred in my breast, where* fires of love are free
    To use that part to their best pleasing will,
    And now impossible it is to kill
    The heat so great where Love his strength doth see.

Mine eyes can scarce sustain the flames, my heart
    Doth trust in them my longings* to impart,
    And languishingly strive to show my love;

My breath not able is to breathe least part
    Of that increasing fuel of my smart;
    Yet love I will till I but ashes prove.


This sonnet is signed 'Pamphilia' surrounded by four slashed Ss, which seems to mark the end of an internal sequence in F; it is followed by a blank page before the next sonnet, which is headed 'sonnet', followed by a slashed S. As Roberts [P55] notes, the conclusion has a parallel in RS 9:

    I yield, I love, to you, then erst I burn
    More hot, more pure, like wood oft warm before,
    But to you burnt to dust can burn no more.

Roberts also notes, following on from May N. Paulissen, that Wroth may in line 6 be alluding by a pun on 'will' to William Herbert, her lover, who is shadowed as Amphilanthus in Urania.

'where': = 'when' in P.
'longings' = 'passions' in P.
48.

How like a fire doth Loue increaſe in me?
    The longer that it laſts the ſtronger ſtill;
    The greater, purer, brighter; and doth fill
    No eye with wonder more then hopes ſtill bee.

Bred in my breaſt, when fires of Loue are free
    To vſe that part to their beſt pleaſing will,
    And now vnpoſſible it is to kill
    The heate ſo great where Loue his ſtrength doth ſee.

Mine eyes can ſcarce ſuſtaine the flames, my heart
    Doth truſt in them my paſſions to impart,
    And languiſhingly ſtriue to ſhew my loue.

My breath not able is to breath leaſt part
    Of that increaſing fuell of my ſmart;
    Yet loue I will, till I but aſhes proue.

Pamphilia.
48.

How like a fire doth love increase in me,
    The longer that it lasts, the stronger still,
    The greater, purer, brighter, and doth fill
    No eye with wonder more; then hopes still be

Bred in my breast, when fires of love are free
    To use that part to their best pleasing will,
    And now impossible it is to kill
    The heat so great where Love his strength doth see.

Mine eyes can scarce sustain the flames my heart
    Doth trust in them my passions to impart,
    And languishingly strive to show my love;

My breath not able is to breathe least part
Of that increasing fuel of my smart;
Yet love I will till I but ashes prove.


F56 F56mod P56 P56mod

Sonett;

Lett griefe as farr bee from your deerest brest
    as I doe wish, or in my hands to eaſe;
    then showld itt bannist bee, and ſweetest rest
    bee plac'ed to giue content by loue to pleaſe,

Lett thoſe diſdaines wch on your hart doe ſeaze
    doubly returne to bring her ſoules vnreſt,
    ſince true loue will nott that beelou'd displeaſe
    or lett least ſmart to theyr minds bee adrest,

Butt often times mistakings bee in loue,
    bee they as farr from faulce accuſing right,
    and still truthe gouerne, wth a constant might,
    ſoe shall you only wished pleaſures proue,

And as for mee, she that showes you least ſcorne
wth all despite, and hate bee her hart torne ;


Sonnet ('Let Grief')

Let grief as far be from your dearest breast
    As I do wish, or in my hands to ease,
    Then should it banished be and sweetest rest,
    Be placed to give content by love to please,

Let those disdains which on your heart do seize
    Doubly return to bring her soul's unrest,
    Since true love will not that beloved displease
    Or let least smart to their minds be addressed,

But often times mistakings be in love,
    Be they as far from false accusing right,
    And still truth govern with a constant might.
    So shall you only wished pleasures prove.

And as for me, she that shows you least scorn,
    With all despite and hate be her heart torn.


This sonnet, which begins a new sequence, takes a sombre and perhaps more personal tone.
Sonnet.

Let griefe as farre be from your deareſt breaſt
    As I doe wiſh, or in my hands to eaſe;
Then ſhould it baniſh'd be, and ſweeteſt reſt
    Be plac'd to giue content by Loue to pleaſe.

Let thoſe diſdaines which on your heart doe ceaze,
    Doubly returne to bring her ſoules vnreſt:
Since true loue will not that belou'd diſpleaſe;
    Or let leaſt ſmart to their minds be addrest.

But oftentimes mistakings be in loue.
    Be they as farre from falſe accuſing right,
And ſtill truth gouerne with a constant might
    So ſhall you only wiſhed pleaſures proue.

And as for me, ſhe that shewes you leaſt ſcorne,
With all deſpite and hate, be her heart torne.
Sonnet ('Let Grief')

Let grief as far be from your dearest breast
    As I do wish, or in my hands to ease,
    Then should it banished be and sweetest rest,
    Be placed to give content by love to please,

Let those disdains which on your heart do seize
    Doubly return to bring her soul's unrest,
    Since true love will not that beloved displease
    Or let least smart to their minds be addressed,

But often times mistakings be in love,
    Be they as far from false accusing right,
    And still truth govern with a constant might.
    So shall you only wished pleasures prove.

And as for me, she that shows you least scorn,
    With all despite and hate be her heart torn.


F57 F57mod P57 P57mod

Song .

O mee the time is come to part,
and wth itt my lyfe=killing ſmart
fond hope leaue mee my deer must goe
to meet more ioy, and I more woe;
Wher still of mirth inioye thy fill
one is enough to ſuffer ill
my hart ſoe well to ſorrow=vſ'd
can better bee by new griefe bruſ'd;
Thou whom the heau'ns them ſelues like made
showld neuer ſitt in mourning shade
noe I alone must mourne, and end
who haue a lyfe in grief to spend,
My ſwiftest pace to wayling bent
shews ioye had butt ſome short time lent
to bide in mee wher woes must dwell,
and charme mee wth theyr cruell spell,
And yett when they theyr wichrafts try
they only make mee wish to dy
butt e're my faith in loue they change
in horrid darknes will I range;

Song ('O me the time is come')

O me the time is come to part,
    And with it my life-killing smart
    Fond hope leave me my dear must go
    To meet more joy, and I more woe;

Where still of mirth enjoy thy fill
    One is enough to suffer ill
    My heart so well to sorrow used
    Can better be by new grief* bruised;

Thou whom the heavens themselves like made
    Should never sit in mourning shade.
    No, I alone must mourn, and end
    Who have a life in grief to spend,

My swiftest pace to wailing* bent
    Shows joy had but some* short time lent
    To bide in me where woes must dwell,
    And charm me with their cruel spell.

And yet when they their witchcrafts try
    They only make me wish to die,
    But ere my faith in love they change
    In horrid darkness will I range.


This begins a sequence of eight songs. Roberts [P57] notes a parallel with AS song 5: 'My feet are turned to roots, my heart becometh lead:/No witchcraft is so evil as which man's mind destroyeth'.

'grief' = 'griefs' in P.
'wailing' = 'wailings' in P.
'some' = 'a' in P.
Song.

O me, the time is come to part,
    And with it my life-killing ſmart:
Fond Hope leaue me, my deare muſt goe,
    To meete more ioy, and I more woe.

Where ſtill of mirth inioy thy fill,
    One is enough to ſuffer ill:
My heart ſo well to ſorrow vs'd,
    can better be by new griefes bruis'd.

Thou whom the Heauens themſelues like made,
    ſhould neuer ſit in mourning ſhade:
No, I alone muſt mourne and end,
    Who haue a life in griefe to ſpend.

My ſwifteſt pace to wailings bent,
    Shewes ioy had but a ſhort time lent,
To bide in me where woes must dwell,
    And charme me with their cruell ſpell.

And yet when they their witchcrafts trye,
    They only make me wiſh to dye:
But ere my faith in loue they change,
    In horrid darkneſſe will I range.
Song ('O me the time is come')

O me the time is come to part,
    And with it my life-killing smart
    Fond hope leave me my dear must go
    To meet more joy, and I more woe;

Where still of mirth enjoy thy fill
    One is enough to suffer ill
    My heart so well to sorrow used
    Can better be by new griefs bruised;

Thou whom the heavens themselves like made
    Should never sit in mourning shade.
    No, I alone must mourn, and end
    Who have a life in grief to spend,

My swiftest pace to wailings bent
    Shows joy had but a short time lent
    To bide in me where woes must dwell,
    And charm me with their cruel spell.

And yet when they their witchcrafts try
    They only make me wish to die
    But ere my faith in love they change
    In horrid darkness will I range.


F58 F58mod U18 U18mod

Song

Gon is my ioy while heere I burne
    in paines of abſence, and of care,
the heau'ns for my ſad grief doe turne
    theyr face to stormes, and show dispayre;

The days ar dark, the nights oprest,
    wth cloudlike weeping for my paine,
wch in theyr acting ſeeme destrest
    ſighing like griefe for abſent gaine,

The Sunn giues place, and hids his face
    that day can now bee hardly knowne,
nor will the starrs in night yeeld grace
    to ſunn=lost heau'n by woe o'rethrowne;

Our light is fire in fearfull flames,
    the aire tempestious blasts of winde
for warmth wee haue forgott thoſe names
    ſuch colde, and stormes are vs aſsinde

And still you bleſsed heau'ns remaine
    distemperd while this curſed powre
of abſence rules, wch breeds my paine
    lett yor care bee more still to lowre.

Butt when my Sunn doth back returne
    call yours againe to giue his light
that they in flames of ioye may burne
    Both shining equall in our ſight


Song ("Gone is my joy')

Gone is my joy while here I burn*
    In pains of absence, and of care,
    The heavens for my sad grief* do turn
    Their face to storms, and show despair;

The days are dark, the nights oppressed
    With cloud-like* weeping for my pain,
    Which in their acting seem distressed
    Sighing like grief for absent gain,

The sun gives place, and hides* his face
    That day can now be hardly known,
    Nor will the stars in night yield grace
    To sun-lost* heaven by woe o'erthrown;

Our light is fire in fearful flames,
    The air tempestuous blasts of wind,
    For warmth we have forgot those names*
    Such cold,* and storms are us assigned

And still you blessed heavens remain
    Distempered while this cursed power
    Of absence rules, which breeds* my pain
    Let your care be more still to lour.

But when my sun doth back return
    Call yours again to give* his light
    That they in flames of joy may burn
    Both shining equal* in our sight.


In Urania, this song is sung by Pamphilia while she wanders alone (Book Two, fol. 178). [U18]

'burn' = 'mourn' in U.
'grief' = 'griefs' in U.
'cloud-like' = 'cloudly' [cloudily] in U.
'hides': Wroth miswrites 'hids'.
'lost' = 'robbed' in U.
'those names' = 'the name' in U.
'cold' = 'blasts' in U.
'breeds': = 'brings' in U.
'give': = 'lend' in U.
'shining equal: = 'equal shining' in U.

Gone is my ioy, while here I mourne
    In paines of abſence, and of care:
The heauens for my ſad griefes doe turne
    Their face to ſtormes, and ſhew deſpaire.

The dayes are darke, the nights oprest
    With cloud'ly weeping for my paine,
Which in ſhew acting ſeeme diſtreſt,
    Sighing like griefe for abſent gaine.

The Sunne giues place, and hides his face,
    That day can now be hardly knowne;
Nor will the ſtarres in night yeeld grace
    To Sun-robd heauen by woe o'rethrowne.

Our light is fire in fearefull flames,
    The ayre tempestious blasts of wind:
For warmth, we haue forgot the name,
    Such blasts and ſtormes are vs aſſind.

And ſtill you bleſſed heauens remaine
    Diſtemperd, while this curſed power
Of abſence rules, which brings my paine,
    Lest your care be more ſtill to lower.

But when my Sunne doth back returne,
    Call yours againe to lend his light,
That they in flames of ioy may burne,
    Both equall ſhining in our ſight.

Song ('Gone is my joy')
Gone is my joy while here I mourn
    In pains of absence, and of care,
    The heavens for my sad griefs doe turn
    Their face to storms, and show despair;

The days are dark, the nights oppressed
    With cloudly* weeping for my pain,
    Which in their acting seem distressed
    Sighing like grief for absent gain,

The sun gives place, and hides his face
    That day can now be hardly known,
    Nor will the stars in night yield grace
    To sun-robbed heaven by woe o'erthrown;

Our light is fire in fearful flames,
    The air tempestuous blasts of wind
    For warmth we have forgot the name
    Such blasts and storms are us assigned

And still you blessed heavens remain
    Distempered while this cursed power
    Of absence rules, which brings my pain
    Let your care be more still to lour.

But when my sun doth back return
    Call yours again to lend his light
    That they in flames of joy may burn
    Both equal shining in our sight.


This song is sung by Pamphilia while she wanders alone: 'her inward thoughts more busy were, and wrought, while this song came into her mind' (Book Two, fol. 178).
Cloudly: weeping like a cloud: cf. 'cloud-like' in the F version.
F59 F59mod P58 P58mod

Song

Say Venus how long haue I lou'd, and ſeru'd you heere
yett all my paſsions ſcorn'd or doubted allthough cleere
alas thinke loue deſerueth loue, and you haue lou'd
looke on my paines, and ſee if you the like haue prou'd;

Remember then you ar the Goddeſs of deſire,
and that your ſacred powre hath touch'd, and felt this fire,
parſwade thes flames in mee to ceaſe, or them redreſs
in mee, poore mee who stormes of loue haue in exceſs,

My restles nights may show for mee how much I loue
my ſighs vnfain'd can wittnes what my hart doth proue
my ſaddest looks doe show the greife my ſoule indures
yett all thes torments from your hands noe help procures

Command that wayward child your ſonn to grant yor right,
and yt his bowe, and shafts hee yeeld to your fayre ſight
to you who haue the eyes of ioye the hart of loue,
and then new hopes may spring yt I may pitty moue

Lett him nott triumph that hee can both hurt, and ſaue,
and more brag yt to you yor ſelf a wound hee gaue
rule him, or what shall I expect of good to ſee
ſince hee that hurt you, hee alas may murder mee



Song ('Say Venus how long')

Say Venus, how long have I loved and served you here,
    Yet all my passions scorned or doubted, although clear?
    Alas, think love deserveth love, and you have loved;
    Look on my pains, and see if you the like have proved.

Remember then you are the Goddess of desire,
    And that your sacred power hath touched and felt this fire,
    Persuade these flames in me to cease, or them redress
    In me, poor me, who storms of love have in excess,

My restless nights may show for me how much I love,
    My sighs unfeigned can witness what my heart doth prove,
    My saddest looks do show the grief my soul endures,
    Yet all these torments from your hands no help procures.

Command that wayward child your son to grant your right,
    And that his bow and shafts he yield to your fair sight
    To you who have the eyes of joy, the heart of love,
    And then new hopes may spring that I may pity move.

Let him not triumph that he can both hurt and save,
    And more brag that to you yourself a wound he gave;
    Rule him, or what shall I expect of good to see,
    Since he that hurt you, he alas may murder me.


This song is rearranged into 6 line stanzas in P. It is another example of the theme of Cupid representing the torments of desire.

Roberts [P58] notes parallels to the depiction of Cupid here in AS 17:

    His mother dear, Cupid offended late,
    Because that Mars, grown slacker in her love,
    With pricking shot he did not thoroughly moue
    To keep the place of their first loving state.

Roberts also notes Greville's Caelica, 13:

    Cupid, his boy's play many time forbidden
    By Venus, who thinks Mars' best manhood boyish,
    While he shot all, still for not shooting chidden,
    Weeps himself blind to see that sex so churlish.
Song.

Say Venus how long haue I lou'd, and ſeru'd you heere?
    Yet all my paſſions ſcorn'd or doubted, although cleere;
Alas thinke loue deſerueth loue, and you haue lou'd,
    Looke on my paines and ſee if you the like haue prou'd:
Remember then you are the Goddeſſe of Deſire,
    and that your ſacred powre hath touch'd and felt this fire.

Perſwade theſe flames in me to ceaſe, or them redreſſe
    in me (poore me) who ſtormes of loue haue in exceſſe,
My reſtleſſe nights may ſhow for me, how much I lone,
    My ſighes vnfaignd, can witnes what my heart doth proue:
My ſaddeſt lookes doe ſhow the griefe my ſoule indures,
    Yet all theſe torments from your hands no helpe procures.

Command that wayward Childe your Son to grant your right,
    and that his Bow and ſhafts he yeeld to your faire ſight,
To you who haue the eyes of ioy, the heart of loue,
    And then new hopes may ſpring, that I may pitty moue:
Let him not triumph that he can both hurt and ſaue,
    And more, bragge that to you your ſelfe a wound he gaue.

Rule him, or what ſhall I expect of good to ſee?
Since he that hurt you, he (alas) may murther mee.
Song ('Say Venus how long')

Say Venus, how long have I loved and served you here,
    Yet all my passions scorned or doubted, although clear?
    Alas, think love deserveth love, and you have loved;
    Look on my pains, and see if you the like have proved.
    Remember then you are the Goddess of desire,
    And that your sacred power hath touched and felt this fire,

Persuade these flames in me to cease, or them redress
    In me, poor me, who storms of love have in excess,
    My restless nights may show for me how much I love,
    My sighs unfeigned can witness what my heart doth prove,
    My saddest looks do show the grief my soul endures,
    Yet all these torments from your hands no help procures.

Command that wayward child your son to grant your right,
    And that his bow and shafts he yield to your fair sight
    To you who have the eyes of joy, the heart of love,
    And then new hopes may spring that I may pity move.
    Let him not triumph that he can both hurt and save,
    And more brag that to you yourself a wound he gave.

Rule him, or what shall I expect of good to see,
    Since he that hurt you, he alas may murder me.


F60 F60mod P59 P59mod

Song

I, that ame of all most crost
hauing, and that had, haue lost,
may wth reaſon thus complaine
ſince loue breeds loue, and lous paine;

That wch I did most deſire
to allay my louing fire
I may haue, yett now must miſs
ſince an other ruler is:

Would that I noe ruler had,
or the ſeruice nott ſoe bad,
then might I, wth blis inioy
that wch now my hopes destroy;

And that wished pleaſure gott
brings wt itt the ſweetest lott
I, that must nott taste the best
fed must sterue, and restles rest



Song ('I that am one of all most crossed')

I, that am of all most crossed
    Having, and that had, have lost,
    May with reason thus complain
    Since love breeds love, and love's pain;

That which I did most desire
    To allay my loving fire
    I may have, yet now must miss
    Since another ruler is:

Would that I no ruler had,
    Or the service not so bad,
    Then might I with bliss enjoy
    That which now my hopes destroy;

And that wished* pleasure got
    Brings with it the sweetest lot:
    I, that must not taste the best,
    Fed must starve, and restless rest.


'wished' = 'wicked' in P

The paradoxes of the last line are typical of Petrarchan imagery about love.
Song.



I that am of all moſt croſt,
Hauing, and that had haue loſt,
May with reaſon thus complaine,
Since loue breeds loue, and Loues paine.

That which I did moſt deſire,
To allay my louing fire,
I may haue, yet now muſt miſſe,
Since another Ruler is.

Would that I no Ruler had,
Or the ſeruice not ſo bad,
Then might I with bliſſe enioy
That which now my hopes deſtroy.

And that wicked pleaſure got,
Brings with it the ſweeteſt lot:
I that muſt not taſte the beſt,
Fed, muſt ſtarue, and reſtleſſe reſt.
Song ('I that am one of all most crossed')

I, that am of all most crossed
    Having, and that had, have lost,
    May with reason thus complain
    Since love breeds love, and love's pain;

That which I did most desire
    To allay my loving fire
    I may have, yet now must miss
    Since another ruler is:

Would that I no ruler had,
    Or the service not so bad,
    Then might I with bliss enjoy
    That which now my hopes destroy;

And that wicked pleasure got
    Brings with it the sweetest lot:
    I, that must not taste the best,
    Fed must starve, and restless rest.


F61 F61mod P60 P60mod

.Song.

Loue as well can make abiding
    in a faythfull sheapheards brest
as in Princeſe whoſe thoughts sliding
    like ſwift riuers neuer rest
chang to theyr minds is best feeding
    to a sheapheard all his care
Who when his loue is exceeding
    thinks his faith his richest fare;

Beauty butt a slight inuiting
    can nott stirr his hart to chang
constancy his chiefe delighting
    striues to fly from phantſies strang
fairnes to him is noe pleaſure
    if in other then his loue
nor can esteeme that a treſure
    wch in her ſmiles doth nott moue:

This a sheapheard once confeſsed
    who lou'd well, butt was nott lou'd
though wth ſcorne, and griefe opreſsed
    could nott yett to chang bee mou'd
butt him ſelf thus hee contented
    While in loue he was accurst
this hard hap hee nott repented
    ſince best louers speed the wurst



Song ('Love as well can make abiding')

Love as well can make abiding
    In a faithful shepherd's breast
    As in princes, whose thoughts sliding
    Like swift rivers never rest,
    Change to their minds is best feeding,
    To a shepherd all his care
    Who when his love is exceeding
    Thinks his faith his richest fare;

Beauty but a slight inviting
    Cannot stir his heart to change
    Constancy his chief delighting
    Strives to fly* from fancies strange,
    Fairness to him is no pleasure
    If in other than his love
    Nor can esteem that a treasure
    Which in her smiles doth not move:

This a shepherd once confessed
    Who loved well, but was not loved
    Though with scorn, and grief oppressed
    Could not yet to change be moved
    But himself thus he* contented
    While in love he was accursed
    This hard hap he not repented
    Since best lovers speed the worst.


This song is changed to quatrains in P. Roberts [P60] notes its similarity to RS Pastoral 9, where the speaker proclaims:

    Thus while the world's fair frame such change approves,
    She will be as false as it be, and as fair:
    Thus from one mischief while another moves,
    I feel the ills which worst cannot impair.

The effect in Mary Wroth is quite different, given that Robert Wroth's shepherd continues the male voice of his sonnets, while for Mary Wroth the male voice contrasts with the speaker of the sonnets and most of the songs.

'fly' = 'flee' in P.
'thus he' = 'he thus' in P.
Song.



Loue as well can make abiding
    In a faithfull Shepheards breſt
As in Princes: whoſe thoughts ſliding
    Like ſwift Riuers neuer reſt.

Change to their minds is best feeding,
    To a Shepheard all his care,
Who when his Loue is exceeding,
    Thinks his faith his richest fare.

Beauty but a ſlight inuiting,
    Cannot ſtirre his heart to change;
Conſtancye his chiefe delighting,
    Striues to flee from fant'ſies ſtrange,

Fairneſſe to him is no pleaſure,
    If in other then his loue;
Nor can eſteeme that a treaſure,
    Which in her ſmiles doth not moue.

This a Shepheard once confeſſed,
    Who lou'd well, but was not lou'd:
Though with ſcorne & griefe oppreſſed
    could not yet to change be mou'd.

But himſelfe he thus contented,
    While in loue he was accurſt:
This hard hap he not repented,
    Since beſt Louers ſpeed the worſt.
Song ('Love as well can make abiding')

Love as well can make abiding
    In a faithful shepherd's breast
    As in princes, whose thoughts sliding
    Like swift rivers never rest,

Change to their minds is best feeding,
    To a shepherd all his care
    Who when his love is exceeding
    Thinks his faith his richest fare;

Beauty but a slight inviting
    Cannot stir his heart to change
    Constancy his chief delighting
    Strives to flee from fancies strange,

Fairness to him is no pleasure
    If in other than his love
    Nor can esteem that a treasure
    Which in her smiles doth not move:

This a shepherd once confessed
    Who loved well, but was not loved
    Though with scorn, and grief oppressed
    Could not yet to change be moved

But himself he thus contented
    While in love he was accursed
    This hard hap he not repented
    Since best lovers speed the worst


F62 F62mod P61 P61mod

Song

Deerest if I by my deſeruing
may maintaine in your thoughts my loue,
    Lett mee itt still inioy
        nor faith destroy
Butt, pitty loue wher itt doth moue,

Lett noe other new loue inuite you
to leaue mee who ſoe long haue ſeru'd,
    Nor lett yor powre decline
        butt purely shine
On, mee, who haue all truth preſeru'd;

Or had you once found my hart straying
then would nott I accuſe your chang,
    Butt beeing constant still
        itt needs must kill
One, whoſe ſoule knowes nott how to rang;

Yett may you loues ſweet ſmiles recouer
ſince all loue is nott yett quite lost
    Butt tempt nott loue too long
        least ſoe great wrong
Make him think hee is too much crost



F Song ('Dearest if I by my deserving')

Dearest if I by my deserving
    May maintain in your thoughts my love,
    Let me it still enjoy
    Nor faith destroy,
    But pity love where it doth move.

Let no other new* love invite you
    To leave me who so long have served,
    Nor let your power decline
    But purely shine
    On, me, who have all truth preserved;

Or had you once found my heart straying
    Then would not I accuse your change,
    But being constant still
    It needs must kill
    One, whose soul knows not how to range;

Yet may you love's sweet smiles recover
    Since all love is not yet quite lost
    But tempt not love too long
    Lest so great wrong
    Make him think he is too much crossed.


'new': written in above the line; incorporated into P.
Song.

Deareſt if I by my deſeruing,
May maintaine in your thoughts my loue,
        Let me it still enioy;
        Nor faith deſtroy:
But pitty Loue where it doth moue.

Let no other new Loue inuite you,
  To leaue me who ſo long haue ſerud:
        Nor let your power decline
        But purely ſhine
On me, who haue all truth preſeru'd.

Or had you once found my heart ſtraying,
Then would not I accuſe your change,
        But being conſtant ſtill
        It needs muſt kill
One, whoſe ſoule knowes not how to range.

Yet may you Loues ſweet ſmiles recouer,
Since all loue is not yet quite loſt,
        But tempt not Loue too long
        Leſt ſo great wrong
Make him thinke he is too much croſt.
Song ("Dearest if I by my deserving')

Dearest if I by my deserving
    May maintain in your thoughts my love,
    Let me it still enjoy
    Nor faith destroy,
    But pity love where it doth move.

Let no other new love invite you
    To leave me who so long have served,
    Nor let your power decline
    But purely shine
    On, me, who have all truth preserved;

Or had you once found my heart straying
    Then would not I accuse your change,
    But being constant still
    It needs must kill
    One, whose soul knows not how to range;

Yet may you love's sweet smiles recover
    Since all love is not yet quite lost
    But tempt not love too long
    Lest so great wrong
    Make him think he is too much crossed.


F63 F63mod U14 U14mod

Song

Who can blame mee if I loue
ſince loue beefore the world did moue?

When I lou'd nott, I dispaird;
ſcarce for hanſomnes I car'd,
ſince, ſoe much I ame refin'd
as new form'd of state, and mind;
Who can=

Some, in truth of loue beeguil'de
haue him blinde, and childish stil'de,
butt lett non in this perſist
ſince ſoe iudging, iudgment mist;
Who can=

Loue in Chaoſe did appeere,
when nothing was, hee ſeem'd cleere,
nor when light could bee deſeride
to his crowne a light was ty'de;
Who can=

Loue is truth, and doth delight
wher as honor shines most bright,
Reaſons ſelf doth loue aproue
wch makes vs our ſelues to loue;
Who can=

Could I my past time beegi
I would nott committ ſuch ſi
to liue howre, and nott to loue
ſince loue makes vs parfaite proue;
Who can=

Song ('Who can blame me if I love')

Who can blame me if I love
    Since love before the world did move?

When I loved not, I despaired;
    Scarce for handsomeness I cared,
    Since, so much I am refined
    As new formed* of state, and mind;
    Who can=*

Some, in truth of love beguiled
    Have him blind, and childish styled,
    But let none in this persist
    Since so judging, judgment missed;
    Who can=

Love in chaos did appear,
    When nothing was, he* seemed clear,
    Nor when light could be descried
    To his crown a light was tied;
    Who can=

Love is truth, and doth delight
    Whereas honour shines most bright,
    Reason's self doth love approve
    Which makes us ourselves to love;
    Who can=

Could I my past time begin
    I would not commit such sin
    To live hour,* and not to love
    Since love makes us perfect prove;
    Who can=


In Urania this song is sung by a shepherd with the chorus being sung by his companions (Book 1, fols. 144-5). [U14]

'formed' = 'framed' in U.

'Who can =': written out in U as 'Who can blame me', but the abbreviation underlines the fact that this is a song, with song choruses often abbreviated in this way when written/printed: the implication is that the chorus consist of the first two lines: 'Who can blame me if I love/Since love before the world did move.'

'he' = 'yet he' in U.
'hour' = 'an hour' in U.

Who can blame me if I loue?
    Since Loue before the World did moue.
When I loued not, I deſpair'd,
Scarce for handſomeneſſe I car'd;
Since ſo much I am refin'd,
As new fram'd of ſtate, and mind,
    Who can blame me if I loue,
    Since Loue before the World did moue.

Some in truth of Loue beguil'd
    Haue him blinde and Childiſh ſtil'd:
    But let none in theſe perſiſt,
    Since ſo iudging iudgement miſt,
    Who can blame me?

Loue in Chaos did appeare
    When nothing was, yet he ſeemd cleare:
    Nor when light could be deſcride,
    To his crowne a light was tide.
    Who can blame me?

Loue is truth, and doth delight,
    Where as honour ſhines moſt bright:
    Reaſons ſelfe doth loue approue,
    Which makes vs our ſelues to loue.
    Who can blame me?

Could I my paſt time begin,
    I would not commit ſuch ſin
    To liue an houre, and not to loue,
    Since loue makes vs perfect proue,
    Who can blame me?

Song ('Who can blame me if I love')

Who can blame me if I love
    Since love before the world did move?
    When I loved not, I despaired;
    Scarce for handsomeness I cared,
    Since, so much I am refined
    As new framed of state, and mind;
    Who can blame me if I love,
    Since love before the world did move?

Some, in truth of love beguiled
    Have him blind, and childish styled,
    But let none in this persist
    Since so judging, judgment missed;
    Who can blame me?

Love in chaos did appear,
    When nothing was, yet he seemed clear,
    Nor when light could be descried
    To his crown a light was tied;
    Who can blame me?

Love is truth, and doth delight
    Whereas honour shines most bright,
    Reason's self doth love approve
    Which makes us ourselves to love;
    Who can blame me?

Could I my past time begin
    I would not commit such sin
    To live an hour, and not to love
    Since love makes us perfect prove;
    Who can blame me?

F64 F64mod P62 P62mod

Song

Fairest, and still truest eyes
can you the lights bee, and the spies
        of my deſires?
Can you shine cleere for loues delight,
and yett the breeders bee of spite,
        and iealous fires?

Mark what lookes doe you beehold,
ſuch as by iealouſie are told
        they want your loue:
See how they sparcle in distrust
wch by a heat of thoughts vniust
        in them doe moue;

Learne to guide your courſe by art
chang your eyes into your hart,
        and patient bee
Till fruitles iealouſie giues leaue
by ſafest abſence to receaue
        what you would ſee;

Then lett loue his triumph haue,
and ſuspition ſuch a graue
        as nott to moue,
While wished freedome brings that bliſs
that you inioy what all ioy is
        happy to loue;


Song ('Fairest, and still truest eyes')

Fairest, and still truest eyes
    Can you the lights be, and the spies
    Of my desires?
    Can you shine clear for love's delight,
    And yet the breeders be of spite,
    And jealous fires?

Mark what looks do you behold,
    Such as by jealousy are told
    They want your love:
    See how they sparkle in distrust
    Which by a heat of thoughts unjust
    In them do move;

Learn to guide your course by art
    Change your eyes into your heart,
    And patient be
    Till fruitless jealousy gives* leave
    By safest absence to receive
    What you would see;

Then let love his triumph have,
    And suspicion such a grave
    As not to move,
    While wished freedom brings that bliss
    That you enjoy what all joy is
    Happy to love.


'gives': = 'give' in P.
Song.




Faireſt and ſtill trueſt eyes,
Can you the lights be, and the ſpies
    Of my deſires?
Can you ſhine cleare for Loues delight,
And yet the breeders be of ſpight,
    And Iealous fires?

Marke what lookes doe you behold,
Such as by Iealouſie are told
    They want your Loue.
See how they ſparckle in diſtruſt,
Which by a heate of thoughts vniuſt
    In them doe mooue.

Learne to guide your courſe by Art,
Change your eyes into your heart,
    And patient be:
Till fruitleſſe Ielouſie giue leaue,
By ſafest abſence to receiue
    What you would ſee.

Then let Loue his triumph haue,
And Suſpition ſuch a graue,
    As not to mooue.
While wiſhed freedome brings that bliſſe
That you enioy what all ioy is
    Happy to Loue.
Song ('Fairest, and still truest eyes')

Fairest, and still truest eyes
    Can you the lights be, and the spies
    Of my desires?
    Can you shine clear for love's delight,
    And yet the breeders be of spite,
    And jealous fires?

Mark what looks do you behold,
    Such as by jealousy are told
    They want your love:
    See how they sparkle in distrust
    Which by a heat of thoughts unjust
    In them do move;

Learn to guide your course by art
    Change your eyes into your heart,
    And patient be
    Till fruitless jealousy give leave
    By safest absence to receive
    What you would see;

Then let love his triumph have,
    And suspicion such a grave
    As not to move,
    While wished freedom brings that bliss
    That you enjoy what all joy is
    Happy to love.


F65 F65mod U12 U12mod

Dialogue
Sheapherd, and Sheapherdeſs



She: Deare how doe thy wining eyes
    my ſences wholy ty?
sh:2. ſence of ſight wherin most lies
    chang, and variety,
she: chang in mee?
sh:2 choyſe in thee ſome new delight to try;
she: When I chang, or chuſe butt thee
    then changed bee mine eyes;
sh:2 If you abſent ſee nott mee
    will you nott breake thes tyes?
she: how can I
from thence fly wher ſuch parfection lies?
sh:2 I must yett more try thy loue
    how if yt I should chang?
she: in thy hart can neuer moue
    a thought ſoe ill, ſoe strang,
sh:2 ſay I dy?
she: neuer I would from thy loue estrang;
sh:2 Dead what could'st thou loue in mee
    when hope, wt lyfe were fled?
she: Beauty, worth, and fayth in thee
    wch liue will, though thou dead:
sh:2 beauty dies.
she: nott wher lies a minde ſoe richly sped:
sh:2 Thou dost speake ſoe faire, ſoe kind
    I can nott chuſe butt trust:
she: none vnto ſoe chaste a minde
    should euer bee vniust
sh:2 Then thus rest
true poſsest of loue wtout mistrust


'Dialogue'

Dialogue
Shepherd, and Shepherdess
She: Dear how do thy wining eyes
    My senses wholly tie?
sh:2. Sense of sight wherein most lies
    Change, and variety.
she: Change in me?
sh:2 Choice in thee some new delight* to try.
she: When I change, or choose but thee
    Then changed be mine eyes.
sh:2 If* you absent see not me
    Will you not break these ties?
she: How can I
    From thence* fly where such perfection lies?
sh:2 I must yet more try thy love
    How if that I should change?
she: In thy heart can never move
    A thought so ill, so strange.
sh:2 Say I die?
she: Never I would* from thy love estrange.
sh:2 Dead what could'st* thou love in me
    When hope, with life were* fled?
she: Beauty, worth, and* faith in thee
    Which live will, though thou dead.
sh:2 Beauty dies.
she: Not where lies a mind so richly sped:
sh:2 Thou dost speak so fair, so kind
    I cannot choose but trust.
she: None unto so chaste a mind
    Should ever be unjust.
sh:2 Then thus rest
    True possessed of love without mistrust.


In Urania this dialogue is moved to the conclusion of Book One, fol.143, [U12] where it forms part of the eclogues (pastoral songs) held to honour the release of the female characters from their captivity in the Throne of Love. Roberts notes a parallel with RS Pastoral 2.

'delight' = 'delights' in U.
'If': = 'When' in U.
'from thence': = 'Ever' in U.
'would': = 'could' in U.
'could'st': = 'canst' in U.
'were': = 'is' in U.
'Beauty, worth, and': = 'Virtue, beauty' in U.

Sh. Deare, how doe thy winning eyes
        my ſenſes wholly tye?

She. Senſe of ſight wherein moſt lyes
    change, and Variety.

Sh. Change in me?
She. Choice in thee ſome new delights to try.
She. When I change or chooſe but thee
    then changed be mine eyes.

She. When you abſent, ſee not me,
    will you not breake theſe tyes?

Sh. How can I,
    euer flye, where ſuch perfection lies?

She. I muſt yet more try thy loue,
    how if that I ſhould change?

Sh. In thy heart can neuer mooue
    a thought ſo ill, ſo ſtrange.

She. Say I dye?
Sh. Neuer I, could from thy loue eſtrange.
She. Dead, what canſt thou loue in me,
    when hope, with life is fledd?

Sh. Vertue, beauty, faith in thee,
    which liue will, though thou dead,

She. Beauty dyes.
Sh. Not where lyes a minde ſo richly ſpedd.
She. Thou doſt ſpeake ſo faire, ſo kind,
    I cannot choſe but truſt,

Sh. None vnto ſo chaſte a minde
    ſhould euer be vniuſt.

She. Then thus reſt,
    true poſſeſt, of loue without miſtruſt.

Dialogue

She: Dear how do thy wining eyes
    My senses wholly tie?
sh:2. Sense of sight wherein most lies
    Change, and variety.
she: Change in me?
sh:2 Choice in thee some new delights to try.
she: When I change, or choose but thee
    Then changed be mine eyes.
sh:2 When you absent see not me
    Will you not break these ties?
she: How can I
    Ever fly where such perfection lies?
sh:2 I must yet more try thy love
    How if that I should change?
she: In thy heart can never move
    A thought so ill, so strange.
sh:2 Say I die?
she: Never I could from thy love estrange.
sh:2 Dead what canst thou love in me
    When hope, with life is fled?
she: Virtue, beauty, faith in thee
    Which live will, though thou dead.
sh:2 Beauty dies.
she: Not where lies a mind so richly sped:
sh:2 Thou dost speak so fair, so kind
    I cannot choose but trust.
she: None unto so chaste a mind
    Should ever be unjust.
sh:2 Then thus rest
    True possessed of love without mistrust.

F66 F66mod P63 P63mod

Sonett I.

In night yett may wee ſee ſome kind of light
    when as the Moone doth pleaſe to show her face,
    and in the Sunns roome yeelds her ſight, and grace
    wch otherwiſe must ſuffer dullest night;

Soe ar my fortunes, bard from true delight
    colde, and vnſertaine, like to this strang place,
    decreaſing, changing in an instant space,
    and euen att full of ioy turn'd to despite;

Iustly on Fortune was beestow'd the wheele
    Whoſe fauors ficle, and vnconstant reele;
    drunk wth delight of chang, and ſodaine paine;

Wher pleaſure hath noe ſettled place of stay
    butt turning still for our best hopes decay,
    And this (alas) wee louers often gaine;

Sonnet 1

In night yet may we see some kind of light
    When as the moon doth please to show her face,
    And in the sun's room yields her sight, and grace
    Which otherwise must suffer dullest night;

So are my fortunes, barred from true delight
    Cold, and uncertain, like to this strange place,
    Decreasing, changing in an instant space,
    And even at* full of joy turned to despite;

Justly on Fortune was bestowed the wheel
    Whose favours, fickle, and unconstant, reel,
    Drunk with delight of change, and sudden pain;

Where pleasure hath no settled place of stay
    But turning still, for our best hopes decay,
    And this (alas) we lovers often gain.


This is the beginning of a sequence of ten sonnets following on from a sequence of songs.

'at': probably an error and should be deleted.
Sonnet. I.

In night yet may we ſee ſome kinde of light,
    When as the Moone doth pleaſe to ſhew her face,
    And in the Sunns roome yeelds her light, and grace,
    Which otherwiſe muſt ſuffer dulleſt night:

So are my fortunes barrd from true delight,
    Cold, and vncertaine, like to this ſtrange place,
    Decreaſing, changing in an inſtant ſpace,
    And euen at full of ioy turnd to deſpight.

Iuſtly on Fortune was beſtowd the Wheele,
    Whoſe fauours fickle, and vnconſtant reele,
    Drunke with delight of change and ſudden paine;

Where pleaſure hath no ſetled place of ſtay,
    But turning ſtill, for our beſt hopes decay,
    And this (alas) we louers often gaine.
Sonnet 1

In night yet may we see some kind of light
    When as the moon doth please to show her face,
    And in the sun's room yields her sight, and grace
    Which otherwise must suffer dullest night;

So are my fortunes, barred from true delight
    Cold, and uncertain, like to this strange place,
    Decreasing, changing in an instant space,
    And even at full of joy turned to despite;

Justly on Fortune was bestowed the wheel
    Whose favours, fickle, and unconstant, reel;
    Drunk with delight of change, and sudden pain;

Where pleasure hath no settled place of stay
    But turning still, for our best hopes decay,
    And this (alas) we lovers often gain.


F67 F67mod P17 P17mod

2.

Truly poore Night thou wellcome art to mee:
    I loue thee better in this ſad attire
    then yt wch raiſeth ſome mens phant'ſies higher
    like painted outſids wch foule inward bee;

I loue thy graue, and ſaddest lookes to ſee,
    wch ſeems my ſoule, and dying hart intire,
    like to the ashes of ſome happy fire
    that flam'd in ioy, butt quench'd in miſerie;

I loue thy count'nance, and thy ſober=pace
    wch euenly goes, and as of louing grace
    to vſs, and mee among the rest oprest

Giues quiet, peace to my poore ſelf alone,
    and freely grants day leaue when thou art gone
    to giue cleere light to ſee all ill redrest;

Sonnet 2

Truly poor Night thou welcome art to me:
    I love thee better in this sad attire
    Than that which raiseth some men's fancies higher
    Like painted outsides which foul inward be;

I love thy grave and saddest looks to see,
    Which seems my soul, and dying heart entire,
    Like to the ashes of some happy fire
    That flamed in joy, but quenched in misery;

I love thy countenance, and thy sober pace
    Which evenly goes, and as of loving grace
    To us, and me among the rest oppressed

Gives quiet, peace to my poor self alone,
    And freely grants day leave when thou art gone
    To give clear light to see all ill redressed.


This sonnet is moved to become Number 15 in the first sequence in P. In F, it follows the previous sonnet in its treatment of night.
15.

Truely (poore night) thou welcome art to me,
    I loue thee better in this ſad attire
    Then that which rayſeth ſome mens fant'ſies higher,
    Like painted outſides, which foule inward be.

I loue thy graue and ſaddeſt lookes to ſee,
    Which ſeems my ſoule and dying heart entire,
    Like to the aſhes of ſome happy fire,
    That flam'd in ioy, but quench'd in miſery.

I loue thy count'nance, and thy ſober pace,
    Which euenly goes, and as of louing grace
    To vs, and mee, among the reſt oppreſt,

Giues quiet peace to my poore ſelfe alone,
    And freely grants day leaue; when thou art gone,
    To giue cleare light, to ſee all ill redreſt.
15.

Truly poor Night thou welcome art to me:
    I love thee better in this sad attire
    Than that which raiseth some men's fancies higher
    Like painted outsides which foul inward be;

I love thy grave and saddest looks to see,
    Which seems my soul, and dying heart entire,
    Like to the ashes of some happy fire
    That flamed in joy, but quenched in misery;

I love thy countenance, and thy sober pace
    Which evenly goes, and as of loving grace
    To us, and me among the rest oppressed.

Gives quiet, peace to my poor self alone,
    And freely grants day leave when thou art gone,
    To give clear light to see all ill redressed.


F68 F68mod P30 P30mod

3.

Deare cherish this, and wth itt my ſoules will,
    nor for itt rann away doe itt abuſe,
    alas itt left poore mee your brest to chuſe
    as the blest shrine wher itt would harbour still;

Then fauor shew, and nott vnkindly kill
    the hart wch fled to you, butt doe excuſe
    that wch for better, did the wurſe refuſe,
    and pleaſ'd I'le bee, though hartles my lyfe spill,

Butt if you will bee kind, and iuſt indeed,
    ſend mee your hart wch in mines place shall feed
    on faithfull loue to your deuotion bound;

Ther shall itt ſee the ſacrifiſes made
    of pure, and spottles loue wch shall nott vade
    while ſoule, and body are together found;

Sonnet 3

Dear, cherish this, and with it my soul's will,
    Nor for it ran away do it abuse,
    Alas, it left poor me your breast to choose
    As the blest* shrine where it would harbour still;

Then favour show, and not unkindly kill
    The heart which fled to you, but do excuse
    That which for better, did the worse refuse,
    And pleased I'll be, though heartless my life spill,

But if you will be kind, and just indeed,
    Send me your heart which in mine's place shall feed
    On faithful love to your devotion bound;

There shall it see the sacrifices made
    Of pure, and spotless love which shall not fade*
    While soul, and body are together found.


In P this sonnet is moved back in the sequence to become sonnet 26. The sonnet plays with the idea of a 'migrating' heart ('this') to represent love.

'blest' = 'best' in P.
'fade': Wroth uses 'vade' an archaic version of fade.
26.

Deare cheriſh this, and with it my ſoules will,
    Nor for it ran away doe it abuſe:
    Alas it left (poore me) your breſt to chooſe,
    As the beſt ſhrine, where it would harbour ſtill.

Then fauour ſhew, and not vnkindly kill
    The heart which fled to you, but doe excuſe
    That which for better did the worſe refuſe;
    And pleas'd Ile be, though heartleſſe my life ſpill.

But if you will bee kinde and iuſt indeed,
    Send me your heart, which in mine's place ſhall feede
    On faithfull loue to your deuotion bound,

There ſhall it ſee the ſacrifices made
    Of pure and ſpotleſſe Loue, which ſhall not vade,
    While ſoule and body are together found.
26.

Dear, cherish this, and with it my soul's will,
    Nor for it ran away do it abuse,
    Alas, it left poor me your breast to choose
    As the best shrine where it would harbour still;

Then favour show, and not unkindly kill
    The heart which fled to you, but do excuse
    That which for better, did the worse refuse,
    And pleased I'll be, though heartless my life spill,

But if you will be kind, and just indeed,
    Send me your heart which in mine's place shall feed
    On faithful love to your devotion bound;

There shall it see the sacrifices made
    Of pure, and spotless love which shall not fade
    While soul, and body are together found.


F69 F69mod P66 P66mod

4.

Cruell ſuspition, O! bee now att rest
    lett dayly torments bring to thee ſome stay
    alas make nott my ill thy eaſe=full pray,
    nor giue looſe raines to rage when loue's oprest

I ame by care ſufficiently distrest
    noe rack can strech my hart more, nor a way
    can I find out for least content to lay,
    one happy foote of ioye, one step thats blest;

Butt to my end thou fly'st wt greedy eye,
    ſeeking to bring griefe by bace iealouſie,
    O in how strang a cage ame I kept in?

Noe little ſigne of fauor can I proue
    butt must bee way'de, and turnd to wronging loue,
    and wth each humor must my state begin;

Sonnet 4.

Cruel suspicion, O! be now at rest,
    Let daily torments bring to thee some stay
    Alas make not my ill thy easeful prey,
    Nor give loose reins to rage when love's oppressed.

I am by care sufficiently distressed,
    No rack can stretch my heart more, nor a way
    Can I find out for least content to lay
    One happy foot of joy, one step that's blessed;

But to my end thou fliest with greedy eye,
    Seeking to bring grief by base jealousy,
    O in how strange a cage am I kept in?

No little sign of favour can I prove
    But must be weighed, and turned to wronging love,
    And with each humour must my state begin.


Roberts [P66] notes a parallel image of the dungeon from AS104:

    Thence, so far thence, that scantly any spark
    Of comfort dare come to this dungeon dark,
    Where Rigour's exile locks up al my sense?
4.

Cruell Suſpition, O! be now at reſt,
    Let daily torments bring to thee ſome ſtay,
    Alas, make not my ill thy eaſe-full pray,
    Nor giue looſe raines to Rage, when Loue's oppreſt.

I am by care ſufficiently diſtreſt,
    No Racke can ſtretch my heart more, nor a way
    Can I finde out, for leaſt content to lay
    One happy foot of ioy, one ſtep that's bleſt.

But to my end thou fly'ſt with greedy eye,
    Seeking to bring griefe by baſe Iealouſie;
    O, in how ſtrange a Cage am I kept in?

No little ſigne of fauour can I prooue,
    But muſt be way'd, and turn'd to wronging loue,
    And with each humour muſt my ſtate begin.
Sonnet 4.

Cruel suspicion, O! be now at rest,
    Let daily torments bring to thee some stay,
    Alas make not my ill thy easeful prey,
    Nor give loose reins to rage when love's oppressed.

I am by care sufficiently distressed
    No rack can stretch my heart more, nor a way
    Can I find out for least content to lay,
    One happy foot of joy, one step that's blessed;

But to my end thou flyest with greedy eye,
    Seeking to bring grief by base jealousy,
    O in how strange a cage am I kept in?

No little sign of favour can I prove
    But must be weighed, and turned to wronging love,
    And with each humour must my state begin.


F70 F70mod P67 P67mod

5.

How many nights haue I wt paine indur'd
    wch as ſoe many ages I esteem'd
    ſince my miſfortune? yett noe whitt redeem'd
    butt rather faster tide, to griefe aſsur'd?

How many howrs haue my ſad thoughts indur'd
    of killing paines? yett is itt nott esteem'd
    by cruell loue, who might haue thes redeem'd,
    and all thes yeers of howres to ioy aſsur'd:

Butt fond child, had hee had a care to ſaue
    as first to conquer, this my pleaſures graue
    had nott bin now to testify my woe;

I might haue bin an Image of delight,
    as now a Tombe for ſad miſfortunes spite,
    Wch Loue vnkindly for reward doth showe

Sonnet 5.

How many nights have I with pain endured,
    Which as so many ages I esteemed
    Since my misfortune, yet no whit redeemed
    But rather faster tied, to grief assured?

How many hours have my sad thoughts endured
    Of killing pains, yet is it not esteemed
    By cruel love, who might have these redeemed,
    And all these years of hours to joy assured:

But fond child, had he had a care to save
    As first to conquer, this my pleasures grave
    Had not been now to testify my woe;

I might have been an Image of delight,
    As now a tomb for sad misfortune's spite,
    Which Love unkindly for reward doth show.

5.

How many nights haue I with paine endurd?
    Which as ſo many Ages I eſteem'd,
    Since my misfortune, yet no whit redeem'd
    But rather faſter ty'de, to griefe aſſur'd.

How many houres haue my ſad thoughts endur'd
    Of killing paines? yet is it not eſteem'd
    By cruell Loue, who might haue theſe redeemd,
    And all theſe yeeres of houres to ioy aſſur'd.

But fond Childe, had he had a care to ſaue,
    As firſt to conquer, this my pleaſures graue,
    Had not beene now to teſtifie my woe.

I might haue beene an Image of delight,
    As now a Tombe for ſad misfortunes ſpight,
    Which Loue vnkindly, for reward doth ſhow.
Sonnet 5.

How many nights have I with pain endured,
    Which as so many ages I esteemed
    Since my misfortune, yet no whit redeemed
    But rather faster tied, to grief assured?

How many hours have my sad thoughts endured
    Of killing pains, yet is it not esteemed
    By cruel love, who might have these redeemed,
    And all these years of hours to joy assured:

But fond child, had he had a care to save
    As first to conquer, this my pleasures grave
    Had not been now to testify my woe;

I might have been an Image of delight,
    As now a tomb for sad misfortune's spite,
    Which Love unkindly for reward doth show.


F71 F71mod P18 P18mod

6.

Sleepe fy poſseſs mee nott, nor doe nott fright
    mee wth thy heauy, and thy deathlike might
    for counterfetting's vilder then deaths ſight,
    and ſuch deluding more my thoughts doe spite

Thou ſuff'rest faulsest shapes my ſoule t'affright
    ſome times in liknes of a hopefull spright,
    and oft times like my loue as in dispite
    Ioying thou canst wt mallice kill delight,

When I (a poore foole made by thee) think ioy
    itt is while thy fond shadows doe destroy
    my that while ſenceles ſelf; then left to thee,

Butt now doe well, lett mee for euer sleepe,
    and ſoe for euer that deare Image keepe,
    Or still wake, that my ſences may bee free

Sonnet 6.

Sleep fie possess me not, nor do not fright
    Me with thy heavy, and thy deathlike might,
    For counterfeiting's viler than death's sight,
    And such deluding more my thoughts do spite.

Thou sufferest falsest shapes my soul t'affright
    Sometimes in likeness of a hopeful sprite,
    And oft times like my love as in despite
    Joying thou canst with malice kill delight,

When I (a poor fool made by thee) think joy
    It is while* thy fond shadows do destroy
    My that-while senseless self; then left* to thee,

But now do well, let me for ever sleep,
    And so forever that dear Image keep,
    Or still wake, that my senses may be free.


This sonnet is moved in P to become 16 [P18] on fol. 9.

'it is, while' = 'doth flow when' in P.
'then left' = 'left free' in P.
16.

Sleepe fye poſſeſſe me not, nor doe not fright
    me with thy heauy, and thy deathlike might:
    For counterfetting's vilder then death's ſight;
    And ſuch deluding more my thoughts doe ſpight.

Thou ſuffer'ſt falſeſt ſhapes my ſoule t'affright,
    Sometimes in likeneſſe of of a hopefull ſpright;
    And oft times like my Loue, as in deſpight;
    Ioying, thou canſt with malice kill delight.

When I (a poore foole made by thee) thinke ioy
    Doth flow, when thy fond ſhadowes doe deſtroy
    My that while ſenceleſſe ſelfe, left free to thee.

But now doe well, let me for euer ſleepe,
    And ſo for euer that deere Image keepe
    Or ſtill wake that my ſenſes may be free.
16.

Sleep fie possess me not, nor do not fright
    Me with thy heavy, and thy deathlike might
    For counterfeiting's viler than death's sight,
    And such deluding more my thoughts do spite.

Thou sufferest falsest shapes my soul t'affright
    Sometimes in likeness of a hopeful sprite,
    And oft times like my love as in despite
    Joying thou canst with malice kill delight,

When I (a poor fool made by thee) think joy
    Doth flow when thy fond shadows do destroy
    My that-while senseless self; left free to thee,

But now do well, let me for ever sleep,
    And so forever that dear Image keep,
    Or still wake, that my senses may be free.


F72 F72mod P69 P69mod

7.

An end fond iealouſie alas I know
    thy hidenest, and thy most ſecrett art
    thou canst noe new inuention frame butt part
    I haue allreddy ſeene, and felt wt woe;

All thy diſsemblings wch by fained show
    wunn my beeleefe, while truth did rule my hart
    I, wth glad mind imbrace'd, and deemd my ſmart
    the spring of ioy, whoſe streames wth bliſs should flow;

I thought excuſes had bin reaſons true,
    and that noe faulcehood could of thee enſue;
    ſoe ſoone beeleefe in honest minds is wrought;

Butt now I find thy flattery, and skill,
    wch idly made mee to obſerue thy will;
    thus is my learning by my bondage bought

Sonnet 7.

An end fond jealousy; alas I know
    Thy hiddenest, and thy most secret art.
    Thou canst no new invention frame but part
    I have already seen, and felt with woe;

All thy dissemblings which by feigned show
    Won my belief, while truth did rule my heart
    I, with glad mind embraced, and deemed my smart
    The spring of joy, whose streams with bliss should flow;

I thought excuses had been reasons true,
    And that no falsehood could of thee ensue;
    So soon belief in honest minds is wrought;

But now I find thy flattery, and skill,
    Which idly made me to observe thy will;
    Thus is my learning by my bondage bought.

7.

An end fond Ielouſie, alas I know
    Thy hiddeneſt, and thy moſt ſecret Art,
    Thou canſt no new inuention frame but part,
    I haue already ſeene, and felt with woe.

All thy diſſemblings, which by faigned ſhowe,
    Wonne my beliefe, while truth did rule my heart,
    I with glad minde embrac'd, and deemd my ſmart
    The ſpring of ioy, whoſe ſtreames with bliſſe ſhould flow.

I thought excuſes had beene reaſons true,
    And that no falſhood could of thee enſue,
    So ſoone beliefe in honeſt mindes is wrought;

But now I finde thy flattery, and skill,
    Which idely made me to obſerue thy will,
    Thus is my learning by my bondage bought.
Sonnet 7.

An end fond jealousy; alas I know
    Thy hiddenest, and thy most secret art
    Thou canst no new invention frame but part
    I have already seen, and felt with woe;

All thy dissemblings which by feigned show
    Won my belief, while truth did rule my heart
    I, with glad mind embraced, and deemed my smart
    The spring of joy, whose streams with bliss should flow;

I thought excuses had been reasons true,
    And that no falsehood could of thee ensue;
    So soon belief in honest minds is wrought;

But now I find thy flattery, and skill,
    Which idly made me to observe thy will;
    Thus is my learning by my bondage bought.


F73 F73mod P19 P19mod

8.

Sweet shades why doe you ſeeke to giue delight
    to mee who deeme delight in this vilde place
    butt torment, ſorrow, and mine owne diſgrace
    to taste of ioy, or your vaine pleaſing ſight;

Show them your pleaſures who ſaw neuer night
    of griefe, wher ioyings fauning, ſmiling face
    appeers as day, wher griefe found neuer space
    yett for a ſigh, a grone, or enuies spite;

Butt O. on mee a world of woes doe ly,
    or els on mee all harmes striue to rely,
    and to attend like ſeruants bound to mee,

Heat in deſire, while frosts of cares I proue,
    wanting my loue, yett ſurfett doe wt loue
    burne, and yett freeze, better in hell to bee;

Sonnet 8.

Sweet shades why do you seek to give delight
    To me who deem delight in this vile place
    But torment, sorrow, and mine own disgrace
    To taste of joy, or your vain pleasing sight;

Show them your pleasures who saw never night
    Of grief, where joying's fawning, smiling face
    Appears as day, where grief found never space
    Yet for a sigh, a groan, or envy's spite;

But O, on me a world of woes doe lie,
    Or else on me all harms strive to rely,
    And to attend like servants bound to me,

Heat in desire, while frosts of cares* I prove,
    Wanting my love, yet surfeit do with love,
    Burn, and yet freeze,* better in hell to be.


This sonnet is moved to become 17 in P on fol. 9 [P19].

'cares' = 'care' in P.
'burn and yet freeze': a Petrarchan cliché, often mocked, but here apparently used seriously.
17.

Sweet ſhades, why doe you ſeeke to giue delight
    To me, who deeme delight in this vilde place:
    But torment, ſorrow, and mine owne diſgrace,
    To taſte of ioy, or your vaine pleaſing ſight?

Shew them your pleaſures who ſaw neuer night
    Of griefe, where ioyings fawning ſmiling face
    Appeares as day, where griefe found neuer ſpace:
    Yet for a ſigh, a groane, or enuies ſpite.

But O: on me a world of woes doe lye,
    Or els on me all harmes ſtriue to relye,
    And to attend like ſeruants bound to me.

Heate in deſire, while froſts of care I proue,
    Wanting my loue, yet ſurfet doe with loue,
    Burne and yet freeze, better in Hell to be.
17.

Sweet shades why do you seek to give delight
    To me who deem delight in this vile place
    But torment, sorrow, and mine own disgrace
    To taste of joy, or your vain pleasing sight;

Show them your pleasures who saw never night
    Of grief, where joying's fawning, smiling face
    Appears as day, where grief found never space
    Yet for a sigh, a groan, or envy's spite;

But O, on me a world of woes doe lie,
    Or else on me all harms strive to rely,
    And to attend like servants bound to me,

Heat in desire, while frosts of care I prove,
    Wanting my love, yet surfeit do with love,
    Burn, and yet freeze, better in hell to be.


F74 F74mod P71 P71mod

9.

Pray doe nott vſe thes words I must bee gone,
    alas doe nott fortell my ills to come
    lett nott my care bee to my ioyes a tombe,
    butt rather finde my loſs wth loſs alone;

Cauſe mee nott thus a more distreſsed one
    nott feeling blis for feare of this ſad dombe
    of preſent croſs, for thinking will orecome,
    and looſe all pleaſure, ſince griefe breedeth none;

Lett the misfortune come att once to mee,
    nor ſuffer mee wt paine to punnish'd bee,
    lett mee bee ignorant of mine owne ill

Then now wth the foreknowledg quite to loſe
    that wch wth ſoe much care, and paines loue choſe
    for his reward, butt ioye now, then mirth kill;

Sonnet 9.

Pray do not use these words: 'I must be gone,'
    Alas do not foretell my* ills to come,
    Let not my care be to my joys a tomb,
    But rather find my loss with loss alone;

Cause me not thus a more distressed one
    Not feeling bliss for fear* of this sad doom
    Of present cross, for thinking will o'ercome,
    And lose all pleasure, since grief breedeth none;

Let the misfortune come at once to me,
    Nor suffer me with pain* to punished be,
    Let me be ignorant of mine own ill

Than now with the foreknowledge quite to lose
    That which with so much care, and pains love chose
    For his reward, but joy now, then mirth kill.


This desire to have future pain arrive now, rather than be delayed through ignorance, is an arresting and original idea, expressed in some characteristically knotty syntax.

'my' = 'mine' in P.
'for fear' = 'because' in P.
'pain' = 'grief' in P.
9.

Pray doe not vſe theſe wordes, I muſt be gone;
    Alaſſe doe not foretell mine ills to come:
    Let not my care be to my ioyes a Tombe;
    But rather finde my loſſe with loſſe alone.

Cauſe me not thus a more diſtreſſed one,
    Not feeling bliſſe, becauſe of this ſad doome
    Of preſent croſſe; for thinking will orecome
    And looſe all pleaſure, ſince griefe breedeth none.

Let the misfortune come at once to me,
    Nor ſuffer me with griefe to puniſh'd be;
    Let mee be ignorant of mine owne ill:

Then now with the fore-knowledge quite to loſe
    That which with ſo much care and paines Loue choſe
    For his reward, but ioy now, then mirth kill.
Sonnet 9.

Pray do not use these words: 'I must be gone,'
    Alas do not foretell mine ills to come,
    Let not my care be to my joys a tomb,
    But rather find my loss with loss alone;

Cause me not thus a more distressed one
    Not feeling bliss because of this sad doom
    Of present cross, for thinking will o'ercome,
    And lose all pleasure, since grief breedeth none;

Let the misfortune come at once to me,
    Nor suffer me with grief
    To punished be,
    Let me be ignorant of mine own ill

Than now with the foreknowledge quite to lose
    That which with so much care, and pains love chose
    For his reward, but joy now, then mirth kill.


F75 F75mod P25 P25mod

10.

Like to the Indians, ſcorched wth the ſunne,
    the ſunn wch they doe as theyr God adore
    ſoe ame I vſ'd by loue, for euer more
    I worship him, leſs fauor haue I wunn,

Better are they who thus to blacknes runn,
    and ſoe can only whitenes want deplore
    then I who pale, and white ame wt griefs store,
    nor can haue hope, butt to ſee hopes vndunn;

Beeſids theyr ſacrifies receaud's in ſight
    of theyr choſe ſainte: Mine hid as worthles rite;
    grant mee to ſee wher I my offrings giue,

Then lett mee weare the marke of Cupids might,
    in hart as they in skin doe Phœbus light
    Nott ceaſing offrings to loue while I Liue



Sonnet 19

Like to the Indians, scorched with the sun,
    The sun which they do as their God adore,
    So am I used by love, for ever more
    I worship him, less favour* have I won,

Better are they who thus to blackness run,
    And so can only whiteness' want deplore
    Than I who pale and white am with grief's store,
    Nor can have hope, but to see hopes undone;

Besides their sacrifice received's* in sight
    Of their chose saint: mine hid as worthless rite;
    Grant me to see where I my offerings give,

Then let me wear the mark of Cupid's might
    In heart as they in skin do* Phoebus' light,
    Not ceasing offerings to love while I live.


The image of the Indians may derive from Wroth's participation in Ben Jonson's Masque of Blackness (1605), in which she played the part of Baryte. The appearance of the court ladies 'blacked up' caused considerable comment at the time. This context, the paradoxes of blackness/whiteness, and the imagery of sacrifice, make this a particularly original sonnet. In P this sonnet is moved to be No 22, on fol. 12. [P25]

'favour' = 'favours' in P.
'received's': received is = 'received' in P.
'do' = 'of' in P.
22.

Like to the Indians ſcorched with the Sunne,
    The Sunne which they doe as their God adore:
    So am I vs'd by Loue, for euermore
    I worſhip him, leſſe fauours haue I wonne.

Better are they who thus to blackneſſe run,
    And ſo can onely whiteneſſe want deplore:
    Theu I who pale and white am with griefes ſtore,
    Nor can haue hope, but to ſee hopes vndone.

Beſides their ſacrifice receiu'd in ſight,
    Of their choſe Saint, mine hid as worthleſſe rite,
    Grant me to ſee where I my offerings giue.

Then let me weare the marke of Cupids might,
    In heart, as they in skin of Phœbus light,
    Not ceaſing offerings to Loue while I liue.
22.

Like to the Indians, scorched with the sun,
    The sun which they do as their God adore,
    So am I used by love, for ever more
    I worship him, less favours have I won,

Better are they who thus to blackness run,
    And so can only whiteness' want deplore
    Than I who pale and white am with grief's store,
    nor can have hope, but to see hopes undone;

Besides their sacrifice received in sight
    of their chose saint: mine hid as worthless rite;
    Grant me to see where I my offerings give,

Then let me wear the mark of Cupid's might
    In heart as they in skin of Phoebus' light,
    Not ceasing offerings to love while I live.


F76 F76mod P73 P73mod

Song .

The springing time of my first louing
finds yett noe winter of remouing
nor frost to make my hopes decreaſe
butt wt the ſommer still increaſe

The trees may teach vs loues remaining,
who ſuffer chang wth little paining
though winter make theyr leaues decreaſe
yett wth the ſommer they increaſe

As Birds by ſilence show theyr mourning
in colde, yett ſing att springs returning
ſoe may loue nipt awhile decreaſe
butt as the ſommer ſoone increaſe

Thoſe that doe loue butt for a ſeaſon
doe faulcefy both loue, and reaſon,
for reaſon wills if loue decreaſe
itt like the ſommer should increaſe

Though loue ſome times may bee mistaken
the truth yett ought nott to bee shaken,
or though the heate awhile decreaſe
itt wth the ſommer may increaſe

And ſince the spring time of my louing
found neuer winter of remouing
nor frost to make my hopes decreaſe
shall as the ſommer still increaſe


Song 'The springing time'

The springing time of my first loving
    Finds yet no Winter of removing
    Nor frost* to make my hopes decrease
    But with the Summer still increase.

The trees may teach us love's remaining,
    Who suffer change with little paining
    Though Winter make their leaves decrease
    Yet with the Summer they increase.

As birds by silence show their mourning
    In cold, yet sing at Spring's returning
    So may love nipped awhile decrease
    But as the Summer soon increase.

Those that do love but for a season
    Do falsify both love, and reason,
    For reason wills if love decrease
    It like the Summer should increase.

Though love sometimes may be mistaken
    The truth yet ought not to be shaken,
    Or though the heat awhile decrease
    It with the Summer may increase.

And since the Springtime of my loving
    Found never Winter of removing
    Nor frost* to make my hopes decrease
    Shall as the Summer still increase.


'frost' = 'frosts in P.
'frost' = 'frosts' in P.
Song.

The Spring time of my firſt louing,
    Finds yet no winter of remouing;
Nor froſts to make my hopes decreaſe:
    But with the Summer ſtill increaſe.

The trees may teach vs Loue's remaining,
    Who ſuffer change with little paining:
Though Winter make their leaues decreaſe,
    Yet with the Summer they increaſe.

As birds by ſilence ſhew their mourning
    in cold, yet ſing at Springs returning:
So may Loue nipt a while decreaſe,
    but as the Summer ſoone increaſe.

Thoſe that doe loue but for a ſeaſon,
    Doe falſifie both Loue and Reaſon:
For Reaſon wills, if Loue decreaſe,
    It like the Summer ſhould increaſe.

Though Loue ſometimes may be miſtaken,
    the truth yet ought not to be ſhaken:
Or though the heate a while decreaſe,
    It with the Summer may increaſe.

And ſince the Spring time of my louing
    Found neuer Winter of remouing:
Nor froſts to make my hopes decreaſe,
    Shall as the Summer ſtill increaſe.
Song 'The Spring Time'

The Spring* time of my first loving
    Finds yet no Winter of removing
    Nor frosts to make my hopes decrease
    But with the summer still increase.

The trees may teach us love's remaining,
    Who suffer change with little paining
    Though Winter make their leaves decrease
    Yet with the Summer they increase.

As birds by silence show their mourning
    In cold, yet sing at Spring's returning
    So may love nipped awhile decrease
    But as the Summer soon increase.

Those that do love but for a season
    Do falsify both love, and reason,
    For reason wills if love decrease
    It like the Summer should increase.

Though love sometimes may be mistaken
    The truth yet ought not to be shaken,
    Or though the heat awhile decrease
    It with the Summer may increase.

And since the springtime of my loving
    Found never Winter of removing
    Nor frosts to make my hopes decrease
    Shall as the Summer still increase.


'spring': hand corrected by Wroth to 'springing' in the annotated Kohler copy of Urania.

F77 F77mod

Song;

The birds doe ſing, day doth apeere
ariſe, ariſe my only deere,
greete this faire morne wth thy faire eyes
wher farr more loue, and brightnes lies

All this long night noe sleepe, nor rest
my loue comanded ſoule poſsest
butt wachfully the time did marck
to ſee thoſe starrs riſe in the darck,

Ariſe then now, and lett thoſe lights
take Pheabus place as theyr due rights
for when they doe together shine
the greater light is still held thine,

Then wth thoſe eyes inrich thy loue
from whoſe deere beames my ioye doth moue
shine wth delight on my ſad hart;
and grace the prize wun by theyr dart



Song. ('The birds do sing')

The birds do sing, day doth appear,
    Arise, arise my only dear,
    Greet this faire morn with thy fair eyes
    Where far more love, and brightness lies.

All this long night no sleep, nor rest
    My love-commanded soul possessed,
    But watchfully the time did mark
    To see those stars rise in the dark.

Arise then now, and let those lights
    Take Pheobus' place as their due rights,
    For when they do together shine
    The greater light is still held thine.

Then with those eyes enrich thy love
    From whose dear beams my joy doth move,
    Shine with delight on my sad heart;
    And grace the prize won by their dart.


This song is omitted from P. It does in some respects seem separate from the general sequence, although thematically it fits with the songs that surround it.


F78 F78mod P74 P74mod

Song:

Loue a child is euer criing,
    pleaſe him, and hee straite is flying,
    giue him hee the more is crauing
    neuer ſatiſfi'd wt hauing;

His deſires haue noe meaſure,
    endles folly is his treaſure,
    what hee promiſeth hee breaketh
    trust nott one word that hee speaketh;

Hee vowes nothing butt faulce matter
    and to couſen you hee'l flatter,
    lett him gaine the hand hee'll leaue you,
    and still glory to deſeaue you;

Hee will triumph in your wayling,
    and yett cauſe bee of your fayling,
    thes his vertus ar, and slighter
    ar his guifts, his fauors lighter,

Feathers ar as firme in staying
    woulues noe fiercer in theyr praying
    as a child then leaue him crying
    nor ſeeke him ſoe giu'n to flying



Song ('Love a child is ever crying')

Love a child is, ever crying,
    Please him, and he straight is flying,
    Give him, he the more is craving
    Never satisfied with having;

His desires have no measure,
    Endless folly is his treasure,
    What he promiseth he breaketh
    Trust not one word that he speaketh;

He vows nothing but false matter
    And to cosen you he'll flatter,
    Let him gain the hand he'll leave you,
    And still glory to deceive you;

He will triumph in your wailing,
    And yet cause be of your failing,
    These his virtues are, and slighter
    Are his gifts, his favours lighter,

Feathers are as firm in staying
    Wolves no fiercer in their preying
    As a child then leave him crying
    Nor seek him so given to flying.


The image of love as wayward child is common and relates in part to Cupid. See, for example, AS 11: 'In truth, O Love, with what a boyish kind/Thou doest proceed in thy most serious ways'.
Song.

Loue a childe is euer crying,
Pleaſe him, and he ſtrait is flying;
Giue him, he the more is crauing,
Neuer ſatiſfi'd with hauing.

His deſires haue no meaſure,
Endleſſe folly is his treaſure:
What he promiſeth, he breaketh,
Truſt not one word that he ſpeaketh.

Hee vowes nothing but falſe matter,
And to couſen you hee'l flatter:
Let him gain the hand, hee'l leaue you,
    And ſtill glory to deceiue you.

Hee will triumph in your wailing,
And yet cauſe be of your failing:
Theſe his vertues are, and ſlighter
Are his guifts; his fauours lighter.

Fathers are as firme in ſtaying,
Wolues no fiercer in their praying.
As a childe then leaue him crying,
Nor ſeeke him ſo giu'n to flying.
Song ('Love a child is ever crying')

Love a child is, ever crying,
    Please him, and he straight is flying,
    Give him, he the more is craving
    Never satisfied with having;

His desires have no measure,
    Endless folly is his treasure,
    What he promiseth he breaketh
    Trust not one word that he speaketh;

He vows nothing but false matter
    And to cosen you he'll flatter,
    Let him gain the hand he'll leave you,
    And still glory to deceive you;*

He will triumph in your wailing,
    And yet cause be of your failing,
    These his virtues are, and slighter
    Are his gifts, his favours lighter,

Feathers are as firm in staying
    Wolves no fiercer in their preying
    As a child then leave him crying
    Nor seek him so given to flying.


'you': the indentation of this single line is clearly a mistake; in F all lines except the first in each stanza are indented.

F79 F79mod P75 P75mod

Song.

Beeing past the paines of loue
freedome gladly ſeekes to moue,
ſays that loues delights were pritty
butt to dwell in them 't'were pitty,

And yett truly ſays that loue
must of force in all harts moue
butt though his delights are pritty
to dwell in them were a pitty.

Lett loue slightly pas like loue
neuer lett itt to deepe moue
for though loues delights are pritty
to dwell in them were great pitty;

Loue noe pitty hath of loue
rather griefes then pleaſures moue,
ſoe though his delights are pritty
to dwell in them would bee pitty

Thoſe that like the ſmart of loue
in them lett it freely moue
els though his delights are pritty
doe nott dwell in them for pitty:

Song ('Being past the pains of love')

Being past the pains of love
    Freedom gladly seeks to move,
    Says that love's delights were pretty
    But to dwell in them 'twere pity,

And yet truly says that love
    Must of force in all hearts move
    But though his delights are pretty
    To dwell in* them were a pity.

Let love slightly pass like love
    Never let it too deep move
    For though love's delights are pretty
    To dwell in them were great pity;

Love no pity hath of love
    Rather griefs than pleasures move,
    So though his delights are pretty
    To dwell in them would be pity.

Those that like the smart of love
    In them let it freely move
    Else though his delights are pretty
    Do not dwell in them for pity.


This clever lyric uses a variation of repeated lines similar in some ways to what has been termed a kyrielle, but with more variation.

'in' = 'on' in P.
Beeing paſt the paines of Loue,
Freedome gladly ſeekes to moue:
Sayes that Loues delights were pretty;
But to dwell in them twere pitty.

And yet truly ſayes, that Loue
Must of force in all hearts moue:
But though his delights are pretty,
To dwell on them were a pitty.

Let Loue ſlightly paſſe like Loue,
Neuer let it too deepe moue:
For thongh Loues delights are pretty,
To dwell in them were great pitty.

Loue no pitty hath of Loue,
Rather griefes then pleaſures moue:
So though his delights are pretty,
To dwell in them would be pitty.

Thoſe that like the ſmart of Loue,
In them let it freely moue:
Els though his delights are pretty,
Doe not dwell in them for pitty.

Song ('Being past the pains of love')

Being past the pains of love
    Freedom gladly seeks to move,
    Says that love's delights were pretty
    But to dwell in them 'twere pity,

And yet truly says that love
    Must of force in all hearts move
    But though his delights are pretty
    To dwell on* them were a pity.

Let love slightly pass like love
    Never let it too deep move
    For though love's delights are pretty
    To dwell in them were great pity;

Love no pity hath of love
    Rather griefs than pleasures move,
    So though his delights are pretty
    To dwell in them would be pity.

Those that like the smart of love
In them let it freely move
Else though his delights are pretty
Do not dwell in them for pity.


'on': this is likely to be a mistake for F's 'in'.

F80 F80mod U13 U13mod

Song:

Loue what art thou? A vaine thought.
    in our minds by phant'ſie wrought,
    idle ſmiles did thee beegett
    while fond wishes made that nett
    wch ſoe many fooles haue caught;

Loue what art thou? light, and faire,
    fresh as morning clear as th'Aire,
    butt too ſoone thy euening chang
    makes thy warmth wth coldenes rang
    still thy ioy is mixt wth care:

Loue what are thou? A ſweet flowre
    once full blowne, dead in an howre,
    dust in winde as stayd remaines
    as thy pleaſure, or our gaines
    if thy humor chang, to lowre.

Loue what art thou? childish, vaine,
    firme as bubbles made by raine
    wantones thy greatest pride
    thes foule faults thy vertues hide
    butt babes can noe staydnes gaine.

Loue what art thou? cauſeles curst
    yett alas thes nott the wurst
    much more of thee may bee ſay'd
    butt thy law I once obay'd
    therfor ſay noe more att first



Song ('Love what art thou?)

Love what art thou? A vain thought,
    In our minds by fancy wrought,
    Idle smiles did thee beget
    While fond wishes made that* net
    Which so many fools have caught.

Love what art thou? light, and fair,
    Fresh as morning clear as th'air,
    But too soon thy evening change
    Makes thy warmth* with coldness range
    Still thy joy is mixed with care.

Love what are thou? A sweet flower
    Once full blown, dead in an hour,
    Dust in wind as staid remains
    As thy pleasure, or our gains
    If thy humour change, to lour.

Love what art thou? Childish, vain,
    Firm as bubbles made by rain,
    Wantonness thy greatest pride,
    These foul faults thy virtues hide
    But babes can no staidness gain.

Love what art thou? Causeless cursed
    Yet alas these not the worst,
    Much more of thee may be said
    But thy law I once obeyed
    Therefore say no more at first.


In Urania this song becomes one of the eclogues at the end of Book One, sung by a shepherdess, fol. 144.[U13]

'that' = 'the' in U.
'warmth' = 'worth' in U.

Loue what art thou? A vaine thought,
    In our mindes by fancy wrought,
    Idle ſmiles did thee beget,
    While fond wiſhes made the nett
    Which ſo many fooles haue caught.

Loue what art thou? light, and faire,
    Freſh as morning, cleere as th'ayre:
    But too ſoone thy euening change,
    Makes thy worth with coldneſſe range,
    Still thy ioy is mixt with care.

Loue what art thou? a ſweet flowre,
    Once full blowne, dead in an houre.
    Duſt in winde as ſtaid remaines
    As thy pleaſure, or our gaines,
    If thy humour change to lowre.

Loue what art thou? Childiſh, vaine,
    Firme as bubbles made by raine:
    Wantonneſſe thy greateſt pride,
    Theſe foule faults thy vertues hide,
    But babes can no ſtaydneſſe gaine.

Loue what art thou? Cauſeleſſe curſt,
    Yet alas theſe not the worst,
    Much more of thee may bee ſaid,
    But thy Law I once obay'd,
    Therefore ſay no more at first.

Song ('Love what art thou?)

Love what art thou? A vain thought,
    In our minds by fancy wrought,
    Idle smiles did thee beget
    While fond wishes made the net
    Which so many fools have caught.

Love what art thou? light, and fair,
    Fresh as morning clear as th'air,
    But too soon thy evening change
    Makes thy worth with coldness range
    Still thy joy is mixed with care.

Love what are thou? A sweet flower
    Once full blown, dead in an hour,
    Dust in wind as staid remains
    As thy pleasure, or our gains
    If thy humour change, to lour.

Love what art thou? Childish, vain,
    Firm as bubbles made by rain
    Wantonness thy greatest pride
    These foul faults thy virtues hide
    But babes can no staidness gain.

Love what art thou? Causeless cursed
    Yet alas these not the worst,
    Much more of thee may be said,
    But thy law I once obeyed
    Therefore say no more at first.

F81 F81mod P76 P76mod

O pardon, Cupid I confeſs my fault
    then mercy grant mee in ſoe iust a kind
    for treaſon neuer lodged in my mind
    against thy might ſoe much as in a thought,

And now my folly I haue deerly bought
    nor could my ſoule least rest or quiett find
    ſince rashnes did my thoughts to error bind
    wch now thy fury, and my harme hath wrought;

I curſe that thought, and hand wch that first fram'd
    for wch by thee I ame most iustly blam'd,
    but now that hand shall guided bee aright,

And giue a crowne vnto thy endleſs prayſe
    wch shall thy glory, and thy greatnes raiſe
    more then thes poore things could thy honor spite

Sonnet ('O Pardon Cupid')

O pardon, Cupid, I confess my fault.
    Then mercy grant me in so just a kind,
    For treason never lodged in my mind
    Against thy might so much as in a thought,

And now my folly I have dearly bought,
    Nor could my soul least rest or* quiet find
    Since rashness did my thoughts to error bind
    Which now thy fury, and my harm hath wrought;

I curse that thought, and hand which that first framed
    For which by thee I am most justly blamed,
    But now that hand shall guided be aright,

And give a crown unto thy endless praise
    Which shall thy glory, and thy greatness raise
    More than these poor things could thy honour spite.


This sonnet 'prefaces' the crown of sonnets both in F and in P, as indicated in the final stanza which introduces the 'crown unto thy endless praise'.

'or' = 'of' in P.
O pardon Cupid, I confeſſe my fault,
    Then mercy grant me in ſo iuſt a kinde:
    For treaſon neuer lodged in my minde
    Againſt thy might, ſo much as in a thought.

And now my folly I haue dearely bought,
    Nor could my ſoule leaſt reſt of quiet finde;
    Since Raſhnes did my thoughts to Error binde,
    Which now thy fury, and my harme hath wrought.

I curſe that thought and hand which that firſt fram'd,
    For which by thee I am moſt iuſtly blam'd:
    But now that hand ſhall guided be aright,

And giue a Crowne vnto thy endleſſe praiſe,
    Which ſhall thy glory and thy greatneſſe raiſe,
    More then theſe poore things could thy honor ſpight.
Sonnet ('O Pardon Cupid')

O pardon, Cupid, I confess my fault.
    Then mercy grant me in so just a kind,
    For treason never lodged in my mind
    Against thy might so much as in a thought,

And now my folly I have dearly bought,
    Nor could my soul least rest of* quiet find
    Since rashness did my thoughts to error bind
    Which now thy fury, and my harm hath wrought;

I curse that thought, and hand which that first framed
    For which by thee I am most justly blamed,
    But now that hand shall guided be aright,

And give a crown unto thy endless praise
    Which shall thy glory, and thy greatness raise
    More than these poor things could thy honour spite.


'of': a mistake for F's 'or'.

F82 F82mod P77 P77mod

A crowne of Sonetts
dedicated to Loue

In this strang labourinth how shall I turne?
    wayes are on all ſids while the way I miſs;
    if to the right hand, ther, in loue I burne;
    lett mee goe forward, therin danger is;

If to the left, ſuspition hinders bliſs,
    lett mee turne back, shame cries I ought returne
    nor fainte though croſses wth my fortunes kiſs;
    stand still is harder, allthough ſure to mourne;

Thus lett mee take the right, or left hand way;
    goe forward, or stand still, or back retire;
    I must thes doubts indure wtout allay
    or help, butt traueile find for my best hire;

Yett that wch most my troubled ſence doth moue
is to leaue all, and take the thread of loue,

Crown 1

In this strange labyrinth how shall I turn?
    Ways are on all sides while the way I miss;
    If to the right hand, there in love I burn;
    Let me go forward, therein danger is;

If to the left, suspicion hinders bliss,
    Let me turn back, shame cries I ought return
    Nor faint, though crosses with* my fortunes kiss;
    Stand still is harder, although sure to mourn.

Thus let me take the right, or left hand way;
    Go forward, or stand still, or back retire;
    I must these doubts endure without allay
    Or help, but travail* find for my best hire;

Yet that which most my troubled sense doth move
    Is to leave all, and take the thread of love.


'A Crown of Sonnets Dedicated to Love'

After this heading in F the crown of sonnets follow on from each other, numbered but not on new pages and with little spacing between them, to emphasise that they are an interwoven sequence. The crown/corona of sonnets was a popular form which might vary in number, though fourteen, as here, makes up a complete 'set' replicating the number of lines ion an individual sonnet. Wroth's father has an incomplete crown in RS with only 4 sonnets written.

The crown begins the labyrinth image which continues through it, and which is also used extensively in the published narrative of Urania to describe the effects of love and desire on Pamphilia and other female characters, especially when they end up trapped in the castle of love as part of an enchantment. The labyrinth also alludes to the myth of Ariadne, especially via the reference to the 'thread of love', which alludes to the thread that Ariadne gives to Theseus so that he can find his way back out of the labyrinth after defeating the minotaur. The first line of this first crown sonnet is the same as the last line of the last sonnet.

'with' = 'which' in P.
'travail' = 'travel' in P ('traveile' in F contains a pun on travel/travail).
A Crowne of Sonnets dedicated
to LOVE.

In this ſtrange Labyrinth how ſhall I turne,
    Wayes are on all ſides, while the way I miſſe:
    If to the right hand, there in loue I burne,
    Let mee goe forward, therein danger is.

If to the left, ſuſpition hinders bliſſe;
    Let mee turne backe, ſhame cryes I ought returne:
    Nor faint, though croſſes which my fortunes kiſſe,
    Stand ſtill is harder, although ſure to mourne.

Thus let mee take the right, or left hand way,
    Goe forward, or ſtand ſtill, or back retire:
    I muſt theſe doubts indure without allay
    Or helpe, but trauell finde for my beſt hire.

Yet that which moſt my troubled ſenſe doth moue,
Is to leaue all and take the threed of Loue.
Crown 1

In this strange labyrinth how shall I turn?
    Ways are on all sides while the way I miss;
    If to the right hand, there in love I burn;
    Let me go forward, therein danger is;

If to the left, suspicion hinders bliss,
    Let me turn back, shame cries I ought return
    Nor faint, though crosses which my fortunes kiss;
    Stand still is harder, although sure to mourn.

Thus let me take the right, or left hand way;
    Go forward, or stand still, or back retire;
    I must these doubts endure without allay
    Or help, but travel find for my best hire;

Yet that which most my troubled sense doth move
    Is to leave all, and take the thread of love.


F83 F83mod P78 P78mod


2.

Is to leaue all, and take the thread of loue
    wch path line straite leads vnto the ſoules content
    wher choyce delights wth pleaſures wings doe moue,
    and idle phant'ſie neuer roome had lent,

When chaste thoughts guide vs then owr minds ar bent
    to take that good wch ills from vs remoue,
    light of true loue, brings fruite wch none repent
    butt constant louers ſeeke, and wish to proue;

Loue is the shining starr of bleſsings light;
    the feruent fire of zeale, the roote of peace,
    that lasting lampe fed wt the oyle of right;
    Image of fayth, and wombe for ioyes increaſe
Loue is true vertu, and his ends delight
his flames ar ioyes, his bands true louers might.

Crown 2

Is to leave all, and take the thread of love
    Which line* straight leads unto the soul's content
    Where choice delights with* pleasure's wings do move,
    And idle fancy never room had lent,

When chaste thoughts guide us then our minds are bent
    To take that good which ills from us remove,
    Light of true love, brings fruit which none repent
    But constant lovers seek, and wish to prove.

Love is the shining star of blessing's light;
    The fervent fire of zeal, the root of peace,
    That lasting lamp fed with the oil of right;
    Image of faith, and womb for joy's increase.

Love is true virtue, and his end's delight
    His flames are joys, his bands true lovers' might.


Roberts [P78] notes the religious overtones of this devotion to Love, and cites RS 4:

    True vestal-like, which with most holy care
    Preserve the sacred fires, religiously
    I do maintain, and that no end they try
    Of my best parts their subject I prepare.

'line': Wroth first writes 'path' and crosses it out.
'with': altered from original 'on'.
2.

Is to leaue all and take the threed of Loue,
    Which line ſtraight leades vnto the ſoules content,
    Where choice delights with pleaſures wings do moue,
    And idle fant'ſie neuer roome had lent.

When chaſte thoughts guide vs, then our minds are bent
    To take that good which ills from vs remoue:
    Light of true loue brings fruite which none repent;
    But conſtant Louers ſeeke and wiſh to proue.

Loue is the ſhining Starre of bleſſings light,
    The feruent fire of zeale, the root of peace,
    The laſting Lampe, fed with the oyle of right,
    Image of Faith, and wombe for ioyes increaſe.

Loue is true Vertue, and his ends delight,
His flames are ioyes, his bands true Louers might.
Crown 2

Is to leave all, and take the thread of love
    Which line straight leads unto the soul's content
    Where choice delights with pleasure's wings do move,
    And idle fancy never room had lent,

When chaste thoughts guide us then our minds are bent
    To take that good which ills from us remove,
    Light of true love, brings fruit which none repent
    But constant lovers seek, and wish to prove.

Love is the shining star of blessing's light;
    The fervent fire of zeal, the root of peace,
    That lasting lamp fed with the oil of right;
    Image of faith, and womb for joy's increase.

Love is true virtue, and his end's delight
    His flames are joys, his bands true lovers' might.


F84 F84mod P79 P79mod

.3.

His flames ar ioyes, his bands true louers might,
    noe staine is ther butt pure, as purest white,
    wher noe clowde can apeere to dim his light,
    nor spott defile, butt shame will ſoone requite,

Heere are affections, tri'de by loues iuſt might
    as gold by fire, and black deſernd by white,
    Error by truthe, and darknes knowne by light,
    wher faith is vallwed for loue to requite,

Pleaſe him, and ſerue him, glory in his might,
    and firme hee'll bee, as innoſencye white,
    cleere as th'ayre, warme as ſunn beames, as day light,
    iust as truth, constant as fate, ioy'd to requite,

Then loue obay, striue to obſerue his might,
and bee in his braue court a glorious light;

Crown 3

His flames are joys, his bands true lovers' might,
    No stain is there, but pure, as purest white,
    Where no cloud can appear to dim his light,
    Nor spot defile, but shame will soon requite,

Here are affections tried* by love's just might
    As gold by fire, and black discerned by white,
    Error by truth, and darkness known by light,
    Where faith is valued for love to requite,

Please him, and serve him, glory in his might,
    And firm he'll be, as innocency white,
    Clear as th'air, warm as sunbeams,* as daylight,
    Just as truth, constant as fate, joyed to requite,

Then love obey, strive to observe his might,
    And be in his brave court a glorious light.


As Roberts [P79] notes, at this point in the crown sequence Love is not the boyish Cupid of many of the earlier sonnets, but a powerful monarch who must be obeyed, or if resisted, still exerts considerable power.

'are affections tried': Wroth emends from 'affections are tried'.
'sunbeams' = 'sun's beams' in P.
3.

His flames are ioyes, his bandes true Louers might,
    No ſtaine is there, but pure, as pureſt white,
    Where no cloud can appeare to dimme his light,
    Nor ſpot defile, but ſhame will ſoon requite.

Heere are affections tryde by Loues iuſt might
    As Gold by fire, and black diſcern'd by white;
    Error by truth, and darknes knowne by light,
    Where Faith is vallu'd, for Loue to requite.

Pleaſe him, and ſerue him, glory in his might
    And firme hee'le be, as Innocency white,
    Cleere as th'ayre, warme as Sun's beames, as day light
    Iuſt as Truth, conſtant as Fate, ioyd to requite.

Then Loue obey, ſtriue to obſerue his might
And be in his braue Court a glorious light.
Crown 3

His flames are joys, his bands true lovers' might,
    No stain is there, but pure, as purest white,
    Where no cloud can appear to dim his light,
    Nor spot defile, but shame will soon requite,

Here are affections tried by love's just might
    As gold by fire, and black discerned by white,
    Error by truth, and darkness known by light,
    Where faith is valued for love to requite,

Please him, and serve him, glory in his might,
    And firm he'll be, as innocency white,
    Clear as th'air, warm as sun's beams, as daylight,
    Just as truth, constant as fate, joyed to requite,

Then love obey, strive to observe his might,
    And be in his brave court a glorious light.


F85 F85mod P80 P80mod


4.

And bee in his braue court a gloriouſe light,
    shine in the eyes of faith, and constancie,
    maintaine the fires of loue still burning bright
    nott slightly sparkling butt light flaming bee

Neuer to ſlack till earth noe stars can ſee,
    till ſunn, and Moone doe leaue to vs dark night,
    and ſecound Chaoſe once againe doe free
    vs, and the world from all deuiſions spite,

Till then, affections wch his followers are
    gouerne our harts, and proue his powers gaine
to taste this pleaſing sting ſeek wt all care
    for hapy ſmarting is itt wth ſmale paine,
ſuch as although, itt pierce your tender hart
and burne, yett burning you will loue the ſmart;

Crown 4

And be in his brave court a glorious light,
    Shine in the eyes of faith, and constancy,
    Maintain the fires of love still burning bright
    Not slightly sparkling but light flaming be.

Never to slack till earth no stars can see,
    Till sun, and moon do leave to us dark night,
    And second chaos* once again do free
    Us and the world from all division's spite,

Till then, affections which his followers are
    Govern our hearts, and prove his power's gain
    To taste this pleasing sting seek with all care
    For happy smarting is it with small pain,

Such as although it pierce your tender heart
    And burn, yet burning you will love the smart.


'Second chaos': this stanza describes the apocalypse and the collapse of the material world into primeval chaos.
4.

And be in his braue Court a glorious light
    Shine in the eyes of Faith, and Conſtancy
    Maintaine the fires of Loue, ſtill burning bright,
    Not ſlightly ſparkling, but light flaming be.

Neuer to ſlake till earth no Starres can ſee,
    Till Sun, and Moone doe leaue to vs darke night,
    And ſecond Chaos once againe doe free
    Vs, and the World from all diuiſions ſpight.

Till then affections which his followers are,
    Gouerne our hearts, and prooue his powers gaine,
    To taſte this pleaſing ſting, ſeeke with all care
    For happy ſmarting is it with ſmall paine.

Such as although it pierce your tender heart,
And burne, yet burning you will loue the ſmart.
Crown 4

And be in his brave court a glorious light,
    Shine in the eyes of faith, and constancy,
    Maintain the fires of love still burning bright
    Not slightly sparkling but light flaming be.

Never to slack till earth no stars can see,
    Till sun, and moon do leave to us dark night,
    And second chaos once again do free
    Us and the world from all division's spite,

Till then, affections which his followers are
    Govern our hearts, and prove his power's gain
    To taste this pleasing sting seek with all care
    For happy smarting is it with small pain,

Such as although it pierce your tender heart
    And burn, yet burning you will love the smart.


F86 F86mod P81 P81mod

5.

And burne, yett burning you will loue the ſmart,
    when you shall feele the weight of true deſire,
    ſoe pleaſing, as you would nott wish your part
    of burden showld bee miſsing from that fire;

Butt faithfull, and vnfained heate aspire
    wch ſin abolisheth, and doth impart
    ſaulues to all feares, wt vertues wch inspire
    ſoules wt deuine loue, wch showes his chaste art,

And guide hee is to ioyings; open eyes
    hee hath to hapines, and best can learne
    vs means how to deſerue, this hee deſcries,
    who blind yett doth our hidenest thought deſerne

Thus may wee gaine ſince liuing in blest loue
hee may our profitt, and owr Tuter proue,

Crown 5

And burn, yet burning you will love the smart,
    When you shall feel the weight of true desire,
    So pleasing, as you would not wish your part
    Of burden should be missing from that fire;

But faithful, and unfeigned heat aspire
    Which sin abolisheth, and doth impart
    Salves to all fears,* with virtues which inspire
    Souls with divine love, which shows his chaste art,

And guide he is to joyings; open eyes
    He hath to happiness, and best can learn
    Us means how to deserve, this he descries,
    Who blind yet doth our hiddenest thought* discern.

Thus may we* gain since living in blest love,
    He may our profit,* and our tutor prove.


'fears' = 'fear' in P.
'thought' = 'thoughts' in P.
'may we' = 'we may' in P.
'profit' = 'prophet' in P; original perhaps a pun on both profit/prophet.
5.

And burne, yet burning you will loue the ſmart,
    When you ſhall feele the waight of true deſire,
    So pleaſing, as you would not wiſh your part
    Of burthen ſhould be miſſing from that fire.

But faithfull and vnfaigned heate aſpire
    Which ſinne abolliſheth, and doth impart
    Salues to all feare, with vertues which inſpire
    Soules with diuine loue; which ſhewes his chaſt Art.

And guide he is to ioyings, open eyes
    He hath to happineſſe, and beſt can learne
    Vs, meanes how to deſerue this he deſcries,
    Who blinde, yet doth our hidn'ſt thoughts diſerne.

Thus we may gaine ſince liuing in bleſt Loue,
He may our Prophet, and our Tutor prooue.
Crown 5

And burn, yet burning you will love the smart,
    When you shall feel the weight of true desire,
    So pleasing, as you would not wish your part
    Of burden should be missing from that fire;

But faithful, and unfeigned heat aspire
    Which sin abolisheth, and doth impart
    Salves to all fear, with virtues which inspire
    Souls with divine love, which shows his chaste art,

And guide he is to joyings; open eyes
    He hath to happiness, and best can learn
    Us means how to deserve, this he descries,
    Who blind yet doth our hiddenest thoughts discern.

Thus we may gain since living in blest love,
    He may our prophet and our tutor prove.


F87 F87mod P82 P82mod


6.

Hee may owr profitt, and our Tuter proue
    in whom alone wee doe this power finde,
    to ioine tow harts as in one frame to moue;
    tow bodies, butt one ſoule to rule the minde;

Eeyes wt much care to one deere obiect bind
    eares to each others speech as if aboue
    all els they ſweet, and learned were; this kind
    content of louers wittniſeth true loue,


Itt doth inrich the witts, and makes you ſee
    that in your ſelf wch you knew nott before,
    forcing you to admire ſuch guifts showld bee
    hid from your knowledg, yett in you the store;

Millians of thes adorne the throne of Loue
how blest bee they then, who his fauours proue

Crown 6

He may our profit* and our tutor prove
    In whom alone we do this power find,
    To join two hearts as in one frame to move;
    Two bodies, but one soul to rule the mind;

Eyes with much* care to one dear object bind,
    Ears to each other's speech as if above
    All else they sweet and learned were; this kind
    Content of lovers witnesseth true love,

It doth enrich the wits, and makes* you see
    That in yourself which you knew not before,
    Forcing you to admire such gifts should be
    Hid from your knowledge, yet in you the store;

Millions of these adorn the Throne of Love*
    How blest be* they then, who his favours prove.*


Throne of Love: a feature of the enchantment in Urania.

'profit' = 'prophet' in P.
'with much' = 'which must' in P.
'makes' = 'make' in P.
'be' = 'are' in P.
prove: grow to experience.
6.

He may our Prophet, and our Tutor prooue,
    In whom alone we doe this power finde,
    To ioyne two hearts as in one frame to mooue
    Two bodies, but one ſoule to rule the minde

Eyes which muſt care to one deare Obiect binde,
    Eares to each others ſpeach as if aboue
    All elſe, they ſweete, and learned were; this kind
    Content of Louers witneſſeth true loue.

It doth inrich the wits, and make you ſee
    That in your ſelfe which you knew not before,
    Forceſing you to admire ſuch gifts ſhould be
    Hid from your knowledge, yet in you the ſtore.

Millions of theſe adorne the throane of Loue,
How bleſt are they then, who his fauours proue?
Crown 6

He may our prophet and our tutor prove
    In whom alone we do this power find,
    To join two hearts as in one frame to move;
    Two bodies, but one soul to rule the mind;

Eyes which must care to one dear object bind,
    Ears to each other's speech as if above
    All else they sweet and learned were; this kind
    Content of lovers witnesseth true love,

It doth enrich the wits, and make you see
    That in yourself which you knew not before,
    Forcing you to admire such gifts should bee
    Hid from your knowledge, yet in you the store;

Millions of these adorn the Throne of Love
    How blest are they then, who his favours prove.


F88 F88mod P83 P83mod

7.

How blest bee they then, who his fauors proue
    a lyfe wherof the birth is iust deſire,
    breeding ſweet flames wch hearts inuite to moue
    in thoſe lou'd eyes wch kindles Cupids fire.

And nurſe his longings wt his thoughts intire,
    fixt on the heat of wishes formd by loue,
    yett as wher fire distroys this doth respire,
    increaſe, and foster all delights aboue;

Loue will a painter-make you, ſuch, as you
    shall able bee to drawe your only deere
    more liuely, parfett, lasting, and more true
    then rarest woorkmen, and to you more neere,

Thes be the least, then needs must all confeſs
Hee that shunns loue doth loue him ſelf the leſs

Crown 7

How blest be they then, who his favours prove
    A life whereof the birth is just desire,
    Breeding sweet flames* which hearts invite to move
    In those* loved eyes which kindles* Cupid's fire,

And nurse his longings with his thoughts entire,
    Fixed on the heat of wishes formed by love,
    Yet as where* fire destroys this doth respire,*
    Increase, and foster all delights above;

Love will a painter make you,* such, as you
    Shall able be to draw your only dear
    More lively, perfect, lasting, and more true
    Than rarest workmen,* and to you more near,

These be the least, then needs must all* confess
    He that shuns love doth love himself the less.


'flames' = 'flame' in P.
'those' = 'these' in P.
'kindles' = 'kindle' in P.
'as where' = 'whereas' in P.
'respire' = 'aspire' in P.
A painter make you: while painting is often used as a metaphor in AS, Wroth here has a particularly elaborate image of the lover as 'painter' (ie depicter).
'workmen' = 'workman' in P.
'needs must all' = 'all must needs' in P.
7.

How bleſſ'd be they then, who his fauors proue,
    A life whereof the birth is iuſt deſire?
    Breeding ſweete flame, which harts inuite to moue,
    In theſe lou'd eyes, which kindle Cupids fire,

And nurſe his longings with his thoughts intire,
    Fix't on the heat of wiſhes form'd by Loue,
    Yet whereas fire deſtroyes, this doth aſpire,
    Increaſe, and foſter all delights aboue.

Loue will a Painter make you, ſuch, as you
    Shall able be to draw, your onely deare,
    More liuely, perfect, laſting, and more true
    Then rareſt Workeman, and to you more neere.

Theſe be the leaſt, then all muſt needs confeſſe,
He that ſhuns Loue, doth loue himſelfe the leſſe.
Crown 7

How blest be they then, who his favours prove
    A life whereof the birth is just desire,
    Breeding sweet flame which hearts invite to move
    In these loved eyes which kindle Cupid's fire,

And nurse his longings with his thoughts entire,
    Fixed on the heat of wishes formed by love,
    Yet whereas fire destroys this doth aspire
    Increase, and foster all delights above;

Love will a painter make you, such, as you
    Shall able be to draw your only dear
    More lively, perfect, lasting, and more true
    Than rarest workman, and to you more near,

These be the least, then needs all must confess
    He that shuns love doth love himself the less.


F89 F89mod P84 P84mod


8.

Hee that shunns loue doth loue him ſelf the leſs
    and curſed hee whos spiritt nott admires
    the worth of loue, wher endles bleſsednes
    raines, and commands, maintaind by heaunly fires

made of vertu, ioin'de by truth, blowne by deſires
    strengthned by worth, renued by carefullnes
    flaming in neuer changing thoughts, briers
    of ielouſie shall heere miſs wellcomnes;

nor coldly paſs in the purſuites of loue
    like one longe frozen in a ſea of iſe,
    and yett butt chastly lett your paſsions moue
    noe thought from vertuouſe loue your minds intiſe

Neuer to other ends your phant'ſies place
butt wher they may returne wt honors grace,

Crown 8

He that shuns love doth love himself the less,
    And cursed he whose spirit not admires
    The worth of love, where endless blessedness
    Reigns, and commands, maintained by heavenly fires

Made of virtue, joined by truth, blown by desires,
    Strengthened by worth, renewed by carefulness
    Flaming in never-changing thoughts, briars
    Of jealousy shall here miss welcomeness,

Nor coldly pass in the pursuits of love
    Like one long frozen in a sea of ice,
    And yet but chastely let your passions move
    No thought from virtuous love your minds entice

Never to other ends your fancies place
    But where they may return with honour's grace.

8.

He that ſhuns Loue, doth loue himſelfe the leſſe,
    And curſed he whoſe ſpirit, not admires
    The worth of Loue, where endleſſe bleſſednes
    Raignes, & commands, maintain'd by heau'nly fires.

Made of Vertue, ioyn'd by Truth, blowne by Deſires,
    Strengthned by Worth, renew'd by carefulneſſe,
    Flaming in neuer-changing thoughts: bryers
    Of Iealouſie ſhall here miſſe welcomneſſe.

Nor coldly paſſe in the purſutes of Loue
    Like one long frozen in a Sea of yce:
    And yet but chaſtly let your paſſions moone,
    No thought from vertuous Loue your minds intice.

Neuer to other ends your Phant'ſies place,
But where they may returne with honor's grace.
Crown 8

He that shuns love doth love himself the less,
    And cursed he whose spirit not admires
    The worth of love, where endless blessedness
    Reigns, and commands, maintained by heavenly fires

Made of virtue, joined by truth, blown by desires,
    Strengthened by worth, renewed by carefulness,
    Flaming in never-changing thoughts, briars
    Of jealousy shall here miss welcomeness,

Nor coldly pass in the pursuits of love
    Like one long frozen in a sea of ice,
    And yet but chastely let your passions move
    No thought from virtuous love your minds entice

Never to other ends your fancies place,
    But where they may return with honour's grace.


F90 F90mod P85 P85mod

9.

Butt wher they may returne wt honors grace
    wher Venus follyes can noe harbour win
    butt chaſed ar as worthles of the face
    or stile of loue who hath laſiuiouſe bin

Oure harts ar ſubiects to her ſunn; wher ſinn
    neuer did dwell, nor rest one minutes space
    what faults hee hath, in her did still begin,
    and from her brest hee ſuckd his fleeting pace,

if lust bee counted loue t'is faulcely nam'd
    by wikednes a fayrer gloſs to ſett
    vpon that Vice, wch els makes men asham'd
    in the owne fraſe to warrant butt begett

This childe for loue, who ought like monster borne
bee from the court of Love, and reaſon torne;

Crown 9

But where they may return with honour's grace
    Where Venus' follies can no harbour win,
    But chased, are as worthless of the face
    Or style of love, who hath lascivious been.

Our hearts are subjects* to her son;* where sin
    Never did dwell, nor* rest one minute's space
    What faults he hath, in her did still begin,
    And from her breast he sucked his fleeting pace.

If lust be counted love, 'tis falsely named
    By wickedness a fairer gloss to set
    Upon that Vice, which else makes men ashamed
    In the own phrase to warrant,* but beget

This child for love, who ought like monster born
    Be from the court of Love, and reason torn.


'subjects' = 'subject' in P.
Son: 'sunn' in MS, punning perhaps on son/sun; 'son' in P.
'nor' = 'or' in P.

In the own phrase to warrant: this stanza as a whole argues that if lust is made to equal love it is falsely and wickedly named so in order to make that vice (ie lust) seem less bad, which otherwise would make men ashamed to in the one phrase (or perhaps in its own phrase) join the two things together, and therefore bring forth as a child of love a monster that should, as a product of lust, be removed from Love's court.
9.

Bvt where they may returne with Honor's grace,
    Where Venus follies can no harbour winne,
    But chaſed are, as worthleſſe of the face,
    Or ſtile of Loue, who hath laſciuious beene.

Our hearts are ſubiect to her Sonne, where ſinne
    Neuer did dwell, or reſt one minutes ſpace;
    What faults he hath in her did ſtill beginne,
    And from her breaſt he ſuck'd his fleeting pace.

If Luſt be counted Loue, 'tis falſely nam'd,
    By wickedneſſe, a fairer gloſſe to ſet
    Vpon that Vice, which elſe makes men aſham'd,
    In the owne Phraſe to warrant, but beget

This Childe for Loue, who ought like Monſter borne,
Be from the Court of Loue, and Reaſon torne.
Crown 9

But where they may return with honour's grace
    Where Venus' follies can no harbour win,
    But chased, are as worthless of the face
    Or style of love, who hath lascivious been.

Our hearts are subject to her son; where sin
    Never did dwell, or rest one minute's space
    What faults he hath, in her did still begin,
    And from her breast he sucked his fleeting pace.

If lust be counted love, 'tis falsely named
    By wickedness a fairer gloss to set
    Upon that Vice, which else makes men ashamed
    In the own phrase to warrant, but beget

This child for love, who ought like monster born
    Be from the court of Love, and reason torn.


F91 F91mod P86 P86mod


10.

Bee from the court of Loue, and reaſon torne
    for Loue in reaſon now doth putt his trust,
    deſert, and liking are together borne
    children of loue, and reaſon parents iust,

Reaſon aduiſer is, loue ruler must
    bee of the state wch crowne hee long hath worne
    yett ſoe as neither will in least mistrust
    the gouernment wher noe feare is of ſcorne,

Then reuerence both theyr mights thus made butt one,
    butt wantones, and all thoſe errors shun,
    wch wrongers bee, impostures, and alone
    maintainers of all follyes ill begunn;

Fruit of a ſowre, and vnwholſome ground
unprofitably pleaſing, and vnſound

Crown 10

Be from the court of Love and Reason torn,
    For Love in Reason now doth put his trust,
    Desert and liking are together born,
    Children of love and reason, parents just.

Reason adviser is, Love ruler must
    Be of the state which crown he long hath worn,
    Yet so as neither will in least mistrust
    The government where no fear is of scorn,

Then reverence both, their mights thus made but* one,
    But wantonness, and all those errors shun,
    Which wrongers be, impostures, and alone
    Maintainers of all follies ill begun;

Fruit of a sour, and unwholesome ground
    Unprofitably pleasing, and unsound.


'but' = 'of' in P.
10.

Bee from the Court of Loue, and reaſon torne,
    For Loue in Reaſon now doth put his truſt,
    Deſert and liking are together borne
    Children of Loue, and Reaſon, Parents iuſt.

Reaſon aduiſer is, Loue ruler muſt
    Be of the State, which Crowne he long hath worne;
    Yet ſo, as neither will in leaſt miſtruſt
    The gouernment where no feare is of ſcorn.

Then reuerence both their mights thus made of one,
    But wantonneſſe, and all thoſe errors ſhun,
    Which wrongers be, Impoſtures, and alone
    Maintainers of all follies ill begunne.

Fruit of a ſower, and vnwholeſome grownd
Vnprofitably pleaſing, and vnſound.
Crown 10

Be from the court of Love and Reason torn,
    For Love in Reason now doth put his trust,
    Desert and liking are together born,
    Children of love and reason, parents just.
    Reason adviser is, Love ruler must
    Be of the state which crown he long hath worn,
    Yet so as neither will in least mistrust
    The government where no fear is of scorn,
    Then reverence both, their mights thus made of one,
    But wantonness, and all those errors shun,
    Which wrongers be, impostures, and alone
    Maintainers of all follies ill begun;

Fruit of a sour, and unwholesome ground
    Unprofitably pleasing, and unsound.


F92 F92mod P87 P87mod


11.

Vnprofitably pleaſing, and vnſound
    when heauen gaue liberty to frayle dull earth
    to bringe forth plenty that in ills abound
    wch ripest yett doe bring a ſertaine dearth

A timeles, and vnſeaſonable birth
    planted in ill, in wurſe time springing found,
    wch hemlock like might feed a ſick witts mirthe
    wher vnruld vapors ſwim in endles rounde,

Then ioy wee nott in what wee ought to shun
    wher shady pleaſures showe, butt true borne fires
    ar quite quench'd out, or by poore ashes wunn
    awhile to keepe thoſe coole, and wann deſires

O noe lett loue his glory haue and might
bee giuen to him who triumphs in his right

Crown 11

Unprofitably pleasing, and unsound
    When heaven gave liberty to frail, dull earth
    To bring forth plenty that in ills abound
    Which ripest yet do bring a certain dearth

A timeless, and unseasonable birth
    Planted in ill, in worse time springing found,
    Which hemlock-like* might feed a sick wit's mirth*
    Where unruled vapours swim in endless round,

Then joy we not in what we ought to shun
    Where shady pleasures show, but true-born fires
    Are quite quenched out, or by poor ashes won
    Awhile to keep those cool, and wan desires.

O no, let Love his glory have and might
    Be given to him who triumphs in his right.


Hemlock-like: hemlock is a poisonous plant.
A sick-wit's mirth: a psychologically disturbed person who might find entertainment in suffering; the sick wit may be the product of the vapours, which disturb the body in Renaissance physiology.
11.

Vnprofitably pleaſing, and vnſound.
    When Heauen gaue liberty to fraile dull earth,
    To bringe foorth plenty that in ills abound,
    Which ripeſt, yet doe bring a certaine dearth.

A timeleſſe, and vnſeaſonable birth,
    Planted in ill, in worſe time ſpringing found,
    Which Hemlocke like might feed a ſicke-wits mirth
    Where vnrul'd vapours ſwimme in endleſſe round.

Then ioy we not in what we ought to ſhunne,
    Where ſhady pleaſures ſhew, but true borne fires
    Are quite quench'd out, or by poore aſhes won,
    Awhile to keepe thoſe coole, and wann deſires.

O no, let Loue his glory haue, and might
Be giu'n to him, who triumphs in his right.
Crown 11

Unprofitably pleasing, and unsound
    When heaven gave liberty to frail, dull earth
    To bring forth plenty that in ills abound
    Which ripest yet do bring a certain dearth

A timeless, and unseasonable birth
    Planted in ill, in worse time springing found,
    Which hemlock-like might feed a sick wit's mirth
    Where unruled vapours swim in endless round,

Then joy we not in what we ought to shun
    Where shady pleasures show, but true-born fires
    Are quite quenched out, or by poor ashes won
    Awhile to keep those cool, and wan desires

O no, let Love his glory have and might
    Be given to him who triumphs in his right.


F93 F93mod P88 P88mod

12.

Bee giuen to him who triumphs in his right
    nor vading bee, butt like thoſe bloſsooms fayre
    wch fall for good, and loſe theyr coulers bright
    yett dy nott, butt wth fruite theyr loſs repaire

ſoe may loue make you pale wt louing care
    when ſweet inioying shall restore that light
    more cleare in beauty then wee can compare
    if nott to Venus in her choſen night

And who ſoe giue them ſelues in this deere kind
    thes hapineſses shall attend them still
    to bee ſuplyd wth ioys, inrichd in mind
    wth treaſures of contents, and pleaſures fill,

Thus Loue to bee deuine doth heere apeere
free from all fogs butt shining faire, and cleere;

Crown 12

Be given to him who triumphs in his right
    Nor fading* be, but like those blossoms fair
    Which fall for good, and lose their colours bright
    Yet die not, but with fruit their loss repair,

So may love make you pale with loving care
    When sweet enjoying shall restore that light
    More clear in beauty than we can compare,
    If not to Venus in her chosen night*.

And who so give themselves in this dear kind
    These happinesses shall attend them still:
    To be supplied with joys, enriched in mind
    With treasures of contents,* and pleasure's fill,

Thus Love to be divine doth here appear
    Free from all fogs, but shining faire, and clear.


fading: MS reads 'vading' which is an early form of fading, changed to 'fading' in P.
'night' = 'might' in P.
'contents' ='content' in P.
12.

Be giu'n to him, who triumphs in his right;
    Nor fading be, but like thoſe bloſſomes faire,
    Which fall for good, and loſe their colours bright,
    Yet dye not, but with fruit their loſſe repaire:

So may Loue make you pale with louing care,
    When ſweet enioying ſhall reſtore that light,
    More cleere in beauty, then we can compare,
    If not to Venus in her choſen might.

And who ſo giue themſelues in this deare kinde,
    Theſe happineſſes ſhall attend them ſtill,
    To be ſupplide with ioyes enrich'd in minde,
    With treaſures of content, and pleaſures fill.

Thus loue to be diuine, doth here appeare,
Free from all foggs, but ſhining faire and cleare.
Crown 12

Be given to him who triumphs in his right
    Nor fading bee, but like those blossoms fair
    Which fall for good, and lose their colours bright
    Yet die not, but with fruit their loss repair,

So may love make you pale with loving care
    When sweet enjoying shall restore that light
    More clear in beauty than we can compare,
    If not to Venus in her chosen might.

And who so give themselves in this dear kind
    These happinesses shall attend them still:
    To be supplied with joys, enriched in mind
    With treasures of content, and pleasure's fill,

Thus Love to be divine doth here appear
    Free from all fogs, but shining faire, and clear.


F94 F94mod P89 P89mod


13.

Free from all fogs butt shining faire, and cleere
    wiſe in all good, and innoſent in ill
    wher holly freindship is esteemed deere
    wth truth in loue, and iustice in our will,

In loue thes titles only haue theyr fill
    of hapy lyfe maintainer, and the meere
    defence of right, the punnisher of skill,
    and fraude; from whence directnes doth apeere,


to thee then Lord commander of all harts
    ruller of owr affections kinde, and iust
    great king of Loue, my ſoule from fained ſmarts
    or thought of change I offer to your trust

This crowne, my ſelf and all that I haue more
except my hart wch you beestowd beefore;

Crown 13

Free from all fogs but shining fair, and clear
    Wise in all good, and innocent in ill
    Where holy friendship is esteemed dear
    With truth in love, and justice in our will,

In love these titles only have their fill
    Of happy life maintainer, and the mere
    Defence of right, the punisher of skill,
    And fraud; from whence directness* doth appear.

To thee then, Lord commander of all hearts,
    Ruler of our affections, kind and just,
    Great king of Love, my soul from feigned smarts
    Or thought of change, I offer to your trust

This crown,* my self, and all that I have more,
    Except my heart which you bestowed before.


'directness' = 'directions' in P.
Crown: ie the crown of sonnets.
13.

Free from all foggs, but ſhining faire, and cleare,
    Wiſe in all good, and innocent in ill,
    Where holy friendſhip is eſteemed deare,
    With Truth in loue, and Iuſtice in our Will.

In Loue theſe titles onely haue their fill
    Of happy life-maintainer, and the meere
    Defence of right, the puniſher of skill,
    And fraude, from whence directions doth appeare.

To thee then, Lord commander of all hearts,
    Ruler of our affections, kinde, and iuſt,
    Great King of Loue, my ſoule from faigned ſmarts,
    Or thought of change, I offer to your truſt,

This Crowne, my ſelfe, and all that I haue more,
Except my heart, which you beſtow'd before.
Crown 13

Free from all fogs but shining fair, and clear
    Wise in all good, and innocent in ill
    Where holy friendship is esteemed dear
    With truth in love, and justice in our will,

In love these titles only have their fill
    Of happy life maintainer, and the mere
    Defence of right, the punisher of skill,
    And fraud; from whence directions doth appear.

To thee then, Lord commander of all hearts,
    Ruler of our affections, kind and just,
    Great king of Love, my soul from feigned smarts
    Or thought of change, I offer to your trust

This crown, my self and all that I have more,
    Except my heart which you bestowed before.


F95 F95mod P90 P90mod

14.

Except my hart wch you beestow'd before,
and for a ſigne of conquest gaue away
as worthles to bee kept in your choyſe store
yett one more spotles wth you doth nott stay

The tribute wch my hart doth truly pay
    faith vntouch'd is, pure thoughts diſcharge ye ſcore
    of debts for mee, wher constancy bears ſway,
    and rules as Lord, vnharm'd by enuyes ſore,

Yett other miſchiefs faile nott to attend,
    as enimies to you, my foes must bee;
    curst iealouſie doth all her forces bend
    to my vndoing; thus my harmes I ſee

Soe though in Loue I feruently doe burne,
In this strange labourinth how shall I turne? !



Crown 14

Except my heart which you bestowed before,
    And for a sign of conquest gave away
    As worthless to be kept in your choice store
    Yet one more spotless with you doth not stay.

The tribute which my heart doth truly pay
    Faith untouched is,* pure thoughts discharge the score
    Of debts for me, where constancy bears sway,
    And rules as Lord, unharmed by envy's sore.

Yet other mischiefs fail not to attend,
    As enemies to you, my foes must be;
    Curst jealousy doth all her forces bend
    To my undoing; thus my harms I see.

So though in love I fervently do burn,
    In this strange labyrinth how shall I turn?*


The first stanza does not have indented second third and fourth lines in the MS, but I have normalised indentations here as occurs in P and was certainly Wroth's intention.

'faith untouched is': 'is faith untouched'
turn?: with the final line of the crown/corona Wroth skilfully returns us to the first line of the opening sonnet to complete the full cycle of fourteen sonnets/fourteen repeated final/opening lines.
14.

Except my heart, which you beſtowd before,
    And for a ſigne of Conqueſt gaue away
    As worthleſſe to be kept in your choice ſtore;
    Yet one more ſpotleſſe with you doth not ſtay.

The tribute which my heart doth truely pay,
    Is faith vntouch'd, pure thoughts diſcharge the ſcore
    Of debts for me, where Conſtancy beares ſway,
    And rules as Lord, vnharmd by Enuies ſore.

Yet other miſcheifes faile not to attend,
    As enemies to you, my foes muſt be,
    Curſt Iealouſie doth all her forces bend
    To my vndoing, thus my harmes I ſee.

So though in Loue I feruently doe burne,
In this ſtrange Labyrinth how ſhall I turne?
Crown 14

Except my heart which you bestowed before,
    And for a sign of conquest gave away
    As worthless to be kept in your choice store
    Yet one more spotless with you doth not stay.

The tribute which my heart doth truly pay
    Is faith untouched, pure thoughts discharge the score
    Of debts for me, where constancy bears sway,
    And rules as Lord, unharmed by envy's sore.

Yet other mischiefs fail not to attend,
    As enemies to you, my foes must be;
    Curst jealousy doth all her forces bend
    To my undoing; thus my harms I see.

So though in love I fervently do burn,
    In this strange labyrinth how shall I turn?


F96 F96mod

Sonett .

Eyes, can you tell mee wher my hart remaines?
have you nott ſeene itt in thoſe louely eyes
wth pride showe you the place itt ther retaines,
and baby=like still paſstime as itt lies?

Or can you in that bleſsed brest ſurpriſe
the run-away? when itt new triumph gaines
to lodg wher greatest harts for mercy cries?
haue you nott ſeene itt ther ioye att theyr paines?

Iff neither wher? wher liues itt? wher abides
this careles sprite who from mee cloſely slides,
and hartles leaus mee? O, alas I knowe

Itt is petitioning for pitty's place
wher loue hath purest, and still during grace;
Thus while I thought itt ſor'de, itt creeps beelow;

Sonnet ('Eyes can you tell me')

Eyes, can you tell me where my heart remains?
    Have you not seen it in those lovely eyes,
    With pride show you the place it there retains,
    And baby-like still pass time as it lies?

Or can you in that blessed breast surprise
    The run-away when it new triumph gains
    To lodge where greatest hearts for mercy cries?
    Have you not seen it there joy at their pains?

If neither, where? Where lives it? Where abides
    This careless sprite who from me closely slides,
    and heartless leaves me? O, alas, I know:

It is petitioning for pity's place
    Where love hath purest and still during* grace;
    Thus while I thought it soared, it creeps below.


In this sonnet the heart, the seat of the emotions, moves around the body as if independent of the person's will: this is in part in accord with early modern anatomical theory, which following Galen thought that the heart might not be in a fixed place.

This sonnet is not reprinted in P.

during: in the sense of enduring.


F97 F97mod P91 P91mod

I.

Sweet lett mee inioye thy ſight
    more cleere, more bright then morning ſun,
wch in spring time giues delight
    and by wch ſomers pride is wun,

Preſent ſight doth pleaſures moue
    wch in ſad abſence wee must miſs,
butt when mett againe in loue
    then twiſe redoubled is our bliſs,

Yett this comfort abſence giues,
    and butt faithfull louing tries
that though parted, loues force liues
    as iust in hart as in our eyes;

Butt ſuch comfort bannish quite
    farr ſweeter is itt still to finde
fauour in thy loued ſight
    wch preſent ſmiles wth ioyes combind

Eyes of gladnes, lips of loue,
    and harts from paſsion nott to turne,
butt in ſweet affections moue
    in flames of faith to liue, and burne,

Dearest then this kindnes giue,
    and grant mee lyfe wch is your ſight
wherin I more bleſsed liue
    then graced wth the ſuns faire light



Crown Song 1 ('Sweet let me enjoy')

Sweet let me enjoy thy sight
    More clear, more bright than morning $un,
    Which in Springtime gives delight
    And by which Summer's pride is won,

Present sight doth pleasures move
    Which in sad absence we must miss,
    But when met again in love
    Then twice redoubled is our bliss.

Yet this comfort absence gives,
    And but* faithful loving tries
    That though parted, love's force lives
    As just in heart as in our eyes;

But such comfort banish quite
    Far sweeter is it still to find
    Favour in thy loved sight
    Which present smiles with joys combined.

Eyes of gladness, lips of love,
    And hearts from passion not to turn,
    But in sweet affections move
    In flames of faith to live, and burn,

Dearest then this kindness give,
    And grant me life which is your sight
    Wherein I more blessed live
    Than graced with the sun's fair light.


Roberts [P91] notes that the opening of this song resembles RS song 20:

    Sense by unjust force banished
    From the objects of your pleasure
    Now of you all end is vanished
    You who late possessed more treasure.

In P the structure is changed to three 8 line stanzas.

'but' = 'only' in P.
Song. I.


Sweet, let me enioy thy ſight
    More cleare, more bright then morning Sun,
Which in Spring-time giues delight
    And by which Summers pride is wun.
Preſent ſight doth pleaſures moue
    Which in ſad abſence we muſt miſſe:
But when met againe in loue,
    Then twice redoubled is our bliſſe.

Yet this comfort abſence giues,
    And only faithfull louing tries,
That though parted, Loues force liues
    As iuſt in heart, as in our eyes:
But ſuch comfort baniſh quite,
    Farre ſweeter is it, ſtill to finde
Fauour in thy loued ſight,
    Which preſent ſmiles with ioyes combind.

Eyes of gladneſſe, lipps of Loue,
    And hearts from paſsion not to turne,
But in ſweet affections mooue,
    In flames of Faith to liue, and burne.
Deareſt then, this kindneſſe giue,
    And grant me life, which is your ſight,
Wherein I more bleſſed liue,
    Then graced with the Sunnes faire light.
Crown Song 1 ('Sweet let me enjoy')

Sweet let me enjoy thy sight
    More clear, more bright than morning $un,
    Which in Springtime gives delight
    And by which Summer's pride is won,
    Present sight doth pleasures move
    Which in sad absence we must miss,
    But when met again in love
    Then twice redoubled is our bliss.

Yet this comfort absence gives,
    And only faithful loving tries
    That though parted, love's force lives
    As just in heart as in our eyes;
    But such comfort banish quite
    Far sweeter is it still to find
    Favour in thy loved sight
    Which present smiles with joys combined.

Eyes of gladness, lips of love,
    And hearts from passion not to turn,
    But in sweet affections move
    In flames of faith to live, and burn,
    Dearest then this kindness give,
    And grant me life which is your sight
    Wherein I more blessed live
    Than graced with the sun's fair light.


F98 F98mod P92 P92mod

2

Sweet Siluia in a shadie wood
    wth her faire Nimphs layde downe
ſawe nott farr of wher Cupid stood
    the Monarck of loues crowne;

All naked playing wth his wings
    wthin a mirtle tree
wch ſight a ſoddaine laughter brings
    his godhead ſoe to ſee;

And fondly they beegan to iest
    wth ſcofing, and delight,
nott knowing hee did breed vnrest,
    and that his will's his light;

When hee perſeauing of theyr ſcorne
    grew in ſuch desp'rate rage
who butt for honor first was borne
    cowld nott his rage aſwage;

Till shooting of his murdring dart
    wch nott long lighting was
knowing the next way to the hart
    did through a poore nimph pas;

This shott, the others made to bow
    beeſids all thoſe to blame
who ſcorners bee, or nott allow
    of powrfull Cupids name;

Take heede then, nor doe idly ſmyle
    nor loues commands despiſe
for ſoone will hee your strength beeguile
    although hee want his eyes;

Crown Song 2 ('Sweet Silvia in a shady wood')

Sweet Silvia in a shady wood
    With her fair nymphs laid down
    Saw not far off where Cupid stood,
    The Monarch of love's crown,

All naked playing with his wings
    Within a myrtle tree
    Which sight a sudden laughter brings
    His godhead so to see;

And* fondly they began to jest
    With scoffing, and delight,
    Not knowing he did breed unrest,
    And that his will's his light;*

When he perceiving of their scorn
    Grew in such desperate rage
    Who but for honour first was born
    Could not his rage assuage;

Till shooting off his murdering dart
    Which not long lighting was,
    Knowing the next way to the heart
    Did through a poor nymph pass;

This shot, the others made to bow
    Besides all those to blame
    Who scorners be, or not allow
    Of powerful Cupid's name;

Take heed then, nor do idly smile
    Nor Love's commands despise
    For soon will he your strength beguile
    Although he want his eyes.


Again the structure of this song changes in P into 8 line stanzas and a concluding quatrain.

'And' = 'an' in P.
'light' = 'right' in P.
2.

Sweet Siluia in a ſhady wood,
    With her faire Nimphs layd downe,
Saw not farre off where
Cupid ſtood,
    The Monarch of Loues Crowne,
All naked, playing with his wings,
    Within a Mirtle Tree,
Which ſight a ſudden laughter brings,
    His Godhead ſo to ſee.

An fondly they began to ieſt,
    With ſcoffing, and delight,
Not knowing he did breed vnreſt,
    And that his will's his right:
When he perceiuing of their ſcorne,
    Grew in ſuch deſperate rage,
Who but for honour firſt was borne,
    Could not his rage aſſwage.

Till ſhooting of his murth'ring dart,
    Which not long lighting was,
Knowing the next way to the heart,
    Did through a poore Nymph paſſe:
This ſhot the others made to bow,
    Beſides all thoſe to blame,
Who ſcorners be, or not allow
    Of powerfull
Cupids name.

Take heede then nor doe idly ſmile,
    Nor Loues commands deſpiſe,
For ſoone will he your ſtrength beguile,
    Although he want his eyes.
Crown Song 2 ('Sweet Silvia in a shady wood')

Sweet Silvia in a shady wood
    With her fair nymphs laid down
    Saw not far off where Cupid stood,
    The Monarch of love's crown,
    All naked playing with his wings
    Within a myrtle tree
    Which sight a sudden laughter brings
    His godhead so to see;

An fondly they began to jest
    With scoffing, and delight,
    Not knowing he did breed unrest,
    And that his will's his right
    When he perceiving of their scorn
    Grew in such desperate rage
    Who but for honour first was born
    Could not his rage assuage;

Till shooting off his murdering dart
    Which not long lighting was,
    Knowing the next way to the heart
    Did through a poor nymph pass;
    This shot, the others made to bow
    Besides all those to blame
    Who scorners be, or not allow
    Of powerful Cupid's name.

Take heed then, nor do idly smile
    Nor Love's commands despise
    For soon will he your strength beguile
    Although he want his eyes.


F99 F99mod P93 P93mod

3.

Come merry spring delight vs
for winter long did spite vs
in pleaſure still perſeuer,
thy beauties ending neuer,
        spring, and growe
        lasting ſoe
wth ioyes increaſing euer;

Lett colde from hence bee baniſht
till hopes from mee bee vanisht,
butt bleſs thy dainties growing
in fullnes freely flowing
        ſweet birds ſing
        for the spring
all mirthe is now beestowing;

Philomeale in this arbour
makes now her louing harbour
yett of her state complaining
her notes in mildnes straining
        wch though ſweet
        yett doe meete
her former luckles payning ;


Crown Song 3 ('Come merry Spring')

Come merry Spring delight us,
    For Winter long did spite us
    In pleasure still persever,*
    Thy beauties ending never,
    Spring, and grow
    Lasting so
    With joys increasing ever;

Let cold from hence be banished
    Till hopes from me be vanished,
    But bless thy dainties growing
    In fullness freely flowing
    Sweet birds sing
    For the Spring
    All mirth is now bestowing;

Philomel* in this arbour
    Makes now her loving harbour
    Yet of her state complaining,
    Her notes in mildness straining
    Which though sweet
    Yet do meet
    Her former luckless paining.


Persever: ie persevere.
Philomel: in Ovid's retelling of the myth, Philomel changes into a nightingale after being raped by Tereus and her song is her attempt to tell her sad story.
3


Come merry Spring delight vs,
For Winter long did ſpight vs,
In pleaſure ſtill perſeuer,
Thy beauties ending neuer:
        Spring, and grow
        Lasting ſo,
With ioyes increaſing euer.

Let cold from hence be baniſh'd,
Till hopes from me be vaniſh'd,
But bleſſe thy daynties growing
In fulneſſe freely flowing:
        Sweet Bird's ſing
        For the Spring,
All mirth is now beſtowing.

Philomel in this Arbour
Makes now her louing Harbour,
Yet of her ſtate complaining,
Her Notes in mildneſſe ſtrayning,
        Which though ſweet,
        Yet doe meet.
Her former luckleſſe paining.
Crown Song 3 ('Come merry Spring')

Come merry Spring delight us,
    For Winter long did spite us
    In pleasure still persever,
    Thy beauties ending never,
    Spring, and grow
    Lasting so
    With joys increasing ever;

Let cold from hence be banished
    Till hopes from me be vanished,
    But bless thy dainties growing
    In fullness freely flowing
    Sweet birds sing
    For the Spring
    All mirth is now bestowing;

Philomel in this arbour
    Makes now her loving harbour
    Yet of her state complaining,
    Her notes in mildness straining
    Which though sweet
    Yet do meet
    Her former luckless paining.


F100 F100mod U34 U34mod

O! that I might but now as ſenceles bee
of my felt paines, as is that pleaſant tree
of the ſweet muſique thou deere bird dost make,
who I imagin doth my woes partake,
yett contrary wee doe owr paſsions moue
ſince in ſweet notes thou doest thy ſorrowes proue,
I, butt in teares, and ſighs can show I grieue,
and best spent too, ſoe ſome will them beeleeue;
butt yett (allas) thy pleaſure makes mee finde
that hapines to mee, as loue is blinde,
and thus thy wrongs in ſweetnes to attire
throwſe downe my hopes, while lasting woes aspire,
beeſids of mee th'aduantage thou hast gott,
thy griefe thou utterest, mine I utter nott,
Yett thus att last wee may agree in one
I mourne for what now is, thou what is gone;

Crown Song 3a ('O that I now')

O! that I might but now as senseless be
    Of my felt pains, as is that pleasant tree
    Of the sweet music thou dear bird dost make,
    Who I imagine doth my woes partake,
    Yet contrary we do our passions move
    Since in sweet notes thou dost thy sorrows prove,
    I but in tears and sighs* can show I grieve,
    And best spent too, so some will* them believe;
    But yet (alas) thy* pleasure makes me find
    That happiness to me, as love is blind,
    And thus* thy wrongs in sweetness to attire
    Throws down my hopes, while lasting* woes aspire,
    Besides of me th'advantage thou hast got,
    Thy grief thou utterest, mine I utter not.
    Yet thus at last we may agree in one
    I mourn* for what now* is, thou what is gone.


While in F this forms part of the miscellaneous songs following the crown sequence of sonnets, in Urania this is a poem purportedly written by the Queen of Naples, upon hearing 'a nightingale sweetly singing' in Book Three (fol. 416). [U34]

'tears and sighs' = 'sighs and tears' in U.
'best spent too, so some will' = 'those best spent, if worth do' in U.
'but yet (alas) thy pleasure' = 'yet thy sweet pleasures' in U.
'thus' = 'these' in U.
'while lasting' = 'to make my' in U.
'mourn' = 'moure' in U.
'now' = 'still' in U.

O that I might but now as ſenſeleſſe bee
Of my felt paines, as is that pleaſant Tree,
Of the ſweet muſique, thou deare Byrd doſt make,
Who I imagine doth my woes partake.
Yet contrary we doe our paſſions mooue,
Since in ſweet notes thou doſt thy ſorrowes prooue.
I but in ſighs, and teares, can ſhew I grieue,
And thoſe beſt ſpent, if worth doe them beleeue.
Yet thy ſweet pleaſures makes me euer finde
That happineſſe to me, as Loue is blinde,
And theſe thy wrongs in ſweetneſſe to attire,
Throwes downe my hopes to make my woes aſpire.
Beſides, of me th'aduantage thou haſt got,
Thy griefe thou vtter'ſt, mine I vtter not.
Yet thus at laſt we may agree in one,
I moure for what ſtill is, thou, what is gone.

Crown Song Unnumbered ('O that I might now senseless be')

O! that I might but now as senseless be
    Of my felt pains, as is that pleasant tree
    Of the sweet music thou dear bird dost make,
    Who I imagine doth my woes partake,
    Yet contrary we do our passions move
    Since in sweet notes thou dost thy sorrows prove,
    I, but in sighs and tears can show I grieve,
    And those best spent, if worth do them believe;
    Yet thy sweet pleasures makes me find
    That happiness to me, as love is blind,
    And these thy wrongs in sweetness to attire
    throws down my hopes, to make my woes aspire,
    Besides of me th'advantage thou hast got,
    Thy grief thou utterest, mine I utter not.
    Yet thus at last we may agree in one
    I more* for what still is, thou what is gone.


More: 'moure' is perhaps a mis-transcription of F 'mourn'.
F101 F101mod P94 P94mod


?
4.


Louers learne to speake butt truthe
    ſweare nott, and your othes forgoe,
giue your age a constant youth
    vowe noe more then what you'll doe

Thinke itt ſacrilidg to breake
    what you promiſe shall in loue,
and in teares what you may speake
    forgett nott when the ends you proue;

Doe nott thinke itt glory is
    to intiſce, and then deſeaue
your chiefe honors ly in this
    by worth what wunn is, nott to leaue;



'T'is nott for your fames to try
    what wee weake nott oft refuſe
in owr bownty owr faults ly
    when you to doe a fault will chuſe;

Fy, leaue this, a greater gaine
    't'is to keepe when you haue wunn
then what purchaced is wt paine
    ſoone after in all ſcorne to shun;

For if worthles to bee priz'd
    why att first will you itt moue,
and if worthy, why dispiſ'd
    you can nott ſweare, and ly, and loue,

Loue (alas) you can nott like
    't'is butt, for a fashion mou'd
non can chuſe, and then dislike
    vnles itt bee by faulshood prou'd

Butt your choice is, and yor loue
    how most numbers to deſeaue,
as if honors claime did moue
    like Popish lawe, non ſafe to leaue;

Fly this folly, and returne
    vnto truth in loue, and try,
none butt Martirs hapy burne
    more shamefull ends they haue that lye



Crown Song 4 ('Lovers learn to speak but truth')

Lovers learn to speak but truth,
    Swear not, and your oaths forego,
    Give your age a constant youth
    Vow no more than what you'll do.

Think it sacrilege to break
    What you promise shall in love,
    And in tears what you may* speak,
    Forget not when the ends you prove.

Do not think it glory is
    To entice, and then deceive,
    Your chief honours lie in this:
    By worth what won is, not to leave.

'Tis not for your fames* to try
    What we, weak, not oft refuse,
    In our bounty our faults lie
    When you to do a fault will choose.

Fie, leave this, a greater gain
    'Tis to keep when you have won
    Than what purchased is with pain
    Soon after in all scorn to shun.

For if worthless to be prized
    Why at first will you it move,
    And if worthy, why despised?
    You cannot swear, and lie, and love.

Love (alas) you cannot like
    'Tis but for a fashion moved
    None can choose, and then dislike
    Unless it be by falsehood* proved.

But your choice is, and your love,
    How most numbers* to deceive,
    As if honour's claim did move
    Like Popish law,* none safe to leave;

Fly this folly, and return
    Unto truth in love, and try,
    None but martyrs happy burn,
    More shameful ends they have that lie.


'may' = 'do' in P.
'fames' = 'fame' in P.
'falsehood' = 'fausehood' in P.
'numbers' = number in P.

Popish law: an interesting political reference: the Sidney family were militantly anti-Catholic and when Wroth was writing her poems tensions between the Catholic and Protestant factions at court were intense. The Popish law specifically in this political context may be the supposed justification for the killing of a non-Catholic monarch. The religious references in this song begin with the idea of it being sacrilege to break promises made in love.
4.

Louers learne to ſpeake but truth,
    Sweare not, and your oathes forgoe,
Giue your age a constant youth,
    Vow no more then what you'le doe.

Thinke it ſacriledge to breake
    What you promiſe, ſhall in loue
And in teares what you doe ſpeake
    Forget not, when the ends you proue.

Doe not thinke it glory is
    To entice, and then deceiue,
Your chiefe honors lye in this,
    By worth what wonne is, not to leaue.

'Tis not for your fame to try,
    What we weake, not oft refuſe,
In our bounty our faults lye,
    When you to doe a fault will chuſe.

Fye leaue this, a greater gaine,
    tis to keepe when you haue won,
Then what purchaſ'd is with paine,
    Soone after in all ſcorne to ſhun.

For if worthleſſe to be priz'd,
    Why at firſt will you it moue?
And if worthy, why diſpis'd?
    You cannot ſweare, and lie, and loue.

Loue alaſſe you cannot like,
    Tis but for a faſhion mou'd,
None can chuſe, and then diſlike,
    Vnleſſe it be by faſhood prou'd.

But your choyce is, and your loue.
    How most number to deceiue,
As if honors claime did moue
    Like Popiſh Law, none ſafe to leaue.

Flye this folly, and returne
    Vnto truth in Loue, and try,
None but Martir's happy burne,
    More ſhamefull ends they haue that lye.
Crown Song 4 ('Lovers learn to speak but truth')

Lovers learn to speak but truth,
    Swear not, and your oaths forego,
    Give your age a constant youth
    Vow no more than what you'll do.

Think it sacrilege to break
    What you promise shall in love,
    And in tears what you do speak,
    Forget not when the ends you prove.

Do not think it glory is
    To entice, and then deceive,
    Your chief honours lie in this:
    By worth what won is, not to leave.

'T'is not for your fame to try
    What we, weak, not oft refuse,
    In our bounty our faults lie
    When you to do a fault will choose.

Fie, leave this, a greater gain
    'Tis to keep when you have won
    Than what purchased is with pain
    Soon after in all scorn to shun.

For if worthless to be prized
    Why at first will you it move,
    And if worthy, why despised?
    You cannot swear, and lie, and love.

Love (alas) you cannot like
    'Tis but for a fashion moved
    None can choose, and then dislike
    Unless it be by falsehood proved.

But your choice is, and your love,
    How most number to deceive,
    As if honour's claim did move
    Like Popish law, none safe to leave;

Fly this folly, and return
    Unto truth in love, and try,
    None but martyrs happy burn,
    More shameful ends they have that lie.


F102 F102mod P40 P40mod

1.

Faulçe hope wch feeds butt to destroy, and spill
    what itt first breeds; vnaturall to the birth
    of thine owne wombe; conceauing butt to kill,
    and plenty giues to make the greater dearth,

Soe Tirants doe who faulsly ruling earth
    outwardly grace them, and wth profitts fill
    aduance thoſe who appointed are to death
    to make the greater falle to pleaſe theyr will.

Thus shadow they theyr wicked vile intent
    coulering euill wth the mask of good
    while in faire showes theyr malice ſoe is spent
    hope kills the hart, and tirants shed the blood

For hope deluding brings vs to the pride
of our deſires the farder downe to slide;



Crown Sonnet 2.1 ('False hope')

False hope which feeds but to destroy, and spill
    What it first breeds; unnatural to the birth*
    Of thine own womb; conceiving but to kill,
    And plenty gives to make the greater dearth,

So tyrants do who falsely ruling earth
    Outwardly grace them, and with profit's fill
    Advance those who appointed are to death
    To make the greater* fall to please their will.

Thus shadow they their wicked vile intent,
    Colouring evil with the mask* of good
    While in fair shows their malice so is spent
    Hope kills the heart, and tyrants shed the blood.

For hope deluding brings us to the pride
    Of our desires the farther down to slide.


In P this sonnet is moved to become sonnet 35, (fol. 20). [P40]

birth: the arresting image of conception/miscarriage might be seen as a reflection of Wroth's own experience, though as 'spoken' by Pamphilia the image is more distanced.
'the greater' = 'their greater' in P.
'the mask' = 'a show' in P.
35.

Falſe Hope which feeds but to deſtroy and ſpill
    What it firſt breeds, vnnaturall to the blrth
    Of thine owne wombe, conceiuing but to kill
    And plenty giues to make the greater dearth.

So Tyrants doe, who falſly ruling Earth,
    Outwardly grace them, and with profits fill,
    Aduance thoſe who appointed are to death;
    To make their greater fall to pleaſe their will.

Thus ſhadow they their wicked vile intent,
    Colouring euill with a ſhow of good:
    While in faire ſhowes their malice ſo is ſpent;
    Hope kill's the heart, and Tyrants ſhed the blood.

For Hode deluding brings vs to the pride
Of our deſires the farther downe to ſlide.
35.

False hope which feeds but to destroy, and spill
    What it first breeds; unnatural to the birth
    Of thine own womb; conceiving but to kill,
    And plenty gives to make the greater dearth,

So tyrants doe who falsely ruling earth
    Outwardly grace them, and with profit's fill
    Advance those who appointed are to death
    To make their greater fall to please their will.

Thus shadow they their wicked vile intent
    Colouring evil with a show of good
    While in fair shows their malice so is spent
    Hope kills the heart, and tyrants shed the blood.

For hope deluding brings us to the pride
    Of our desires the farther down to slide.


F103 F103mod P47 P47mod

2.

You bleſsed starrs wch doe heauns glory show,
    and att your brightnes makes our eyes admire
    yett enuy nott if I on earth beelow
    inioy a ſight wch moues in mee more fire;

I doe confeſs ſuch beauty breeds deſire,
    you shine, and cleerest light on vs beestow,
    yett doth a ſight on earth more warmth inspire
    into my louing ſoule, his force to knowe;

Cleere, bright, and shining as you are, is this
    light of my ioye, fixt stedfast nor will moue
    his light from mee, nor I chang from his loue,
    butt still increaſe as th'eith of all my bliſs

His ſight giues lyfe vnto my loue=rulde eyes
my loue content beecauſe in his, loue lies;



Crown sonnet 2.2 ('You blessed stars')

You blessed stars which do Heaven's glory show,
    And at your brightness makes our eyes admire
    Yet envy not if* I on earth below
    Enjoy a sight which moves in me more fire;

I do confess such beauty breeds desire,
    You shine, and clearest light on us bestow,
    Yet doth a sight on earth more warmth inspire
    Into my loving soul, his force* to know;

Clear, bright, and shining as you are, is this
    Light of my joy, fixed steadfast, nor will move
    His light from me, nor I change from his love,
    But still increase as th'height* of all my bliss.

His sight gives* life unto my love-ruled eyes,
    My love content because in his, love lies.


Moved to become sonnet 41 in P (fol. 24). [P47]

Pritchard notes a parallel with RS sonnet 1:

    You purest stars, whose never-dying fires
    Deck heavenly spheres and rule the world below,
    Grudge not if I in your clear beauties know
    The fair maid's eyes, the stars of my desires.

    To earthly hearts your light which not expires
    Makes known the matchless place wherein you go;
    And they the mind which through them shines do show,
    Whose clearest beams my soul as heaven admires.

    You shine still one, and alter not your race
    At suit of those which most your lights adore,
    For well you know you shine for heaven's grace,

    And they in whom all eyes on earth are blest,
    Though than the heavenly lights I love them more,
    Shine to the world and me but with the rest.

Also some similarity to Greville, Caelica 4 (which may well derive from RS):

    You little stars that live in skies/And glory in Apollo's glory'.

'if' = 'though' in P.
'force' = 'grace' in P.
th'height: Wroth's 'th'eith' in F = 'th'earth' in P: clearly a misunderstanding.
'gives' = 'give' in P.
41.

You bleſſed Starres, which doe Heauen's glory ſhow,
    And at your brightneſſe make our eyes admire:
    Yet enuy not, though I on earth below,
    Inioy a ſight which moues in me more fire.

I doe confeſſe ſuch beauty breeds deſire
    You ſhine, and cleareſt light on vs beſtow:
    Yet doth a ſight on Earth more warmth inſpire
    Into my louing ſoule his grace to know.

Cleare, bright, and ſhining, as you are, is this
    Light of my ioy: fix't ſtedfaſt, nor will moue
    His light from me, nor I change from his loue;
    But ſtill increaſe as th'earth of all my bliſſe.

His ſight giue life vnto my loue-rould eye,
My loue content, becauſe in his loue lies.
41.

You blessed stars which do heaven's glory show,
    And at your brightness makes our eyes admire
    Yet envy not though I on earth below
    Enjoy a sight which moves in me more fire;

I do confess such beauty breeds desire,
    You shine, and clearest light on us bestow,
    Yet doth a sight on earth more warmth inspire
    Into my loving soul, his grace to know;

Clear, bright, and shining as you are, is this
    Light of my joy, fixed steadfast nor will move
    His light from me, nor I change from his love,
    But still increase as th'earth* of all my bliss.

His sight give life unto my love-ruled eyes
    My love content because in his, love lies.


'th'earth': a transcription error for F's 'th'eith' = th'height.

F104 F104mod P41 P41mod

3.

How well poore hart thou wittnes canst I loue,
    how oft my griefe hath made thee shed for teares
    drops of thy deerest blood, and how oft feares
    borne testimony of the paines I proue,

What torments hast thou ſufferd while aboue
    ioy; thou tortur'd wert wt racks wch longing beares
    pinch'd wt deſires wch yett butt wishing reares
    firme in my faith, in constancy to moue,

Yett is itt ſayd that ſure loue can nott bee
    wher ſoe ſmall showe of paſsion is deſcri'd,
    when thy chiefe paine is that I must itt hide
    from all ſaue only one who showld itt ſee

For know more paſsion in my hart doth moue
then in a millian that make show they loue



Crown sonnet 2.3 ('How well poor heart')

How well poor heart thou witness canst I love,
    How oft my grief hath made thee shed for* tears
    Drops of thy dearest blood, and how oft fears
    Borne testimony of the pains I prove,

What torments hast thou suffered while above
    Joy thou tortured wert with racks which longing bears.
    Pinched with desires which yet but wishing rears*
    Firm in my faith, in constancy to move,

Yet is it said that sure love cannot be
    Where so small show of passion is descried,
    When thy chief pain is that I must it hide
    From all save only one who should it see.

For know more passion in my heart doth move
    Than in a million that make show they* love.


This sonnet moved to become sonnet 36 in P (fol. 20). [P41]

rears: ie like a rearing horse, with in the stanza a tension between the need to shift/move and the determination to remain fixed/constant.
'for' = 'forth' in P.
'they' = 'of' in P.
36.

How well (poore heart) thou witneſſe canſt, I loue,
    How oft my grief hath made thee ſhed forth teares,
    Drops of thy deareſt blood; and how oft feares
    Borne teſtimony of the paines I proue?

What torments haſt thou ſuffer'd, while aboue
    Ioy thou tortur'd wert with racks, which longing bears:
    Pinch'd with deſires, which yet but wiſhing reares
    Firme in my faith, in conſtancie, to moue.

Yet is it ſaid, that ſure loue cannot be,
    Where ſo ſmall ſhew of paſſion is deſcri'd;
    When thy chiefe paine is, that I muſt it hide
    From all, ſaue onely one, who ſhould it ſee.

For know, more paſſion in my heart doth moue,
Then in a million that make ſhew of loue.
36.

How well poor heart thou witness canst I love,
    How oft my grief hath made thee shed forth tears,
    Drops of thy dearest blood, and how oft fears
    Borne testimony of the pains I prove,

What torments hast thou suffered while above
    Joy thou tortured wert with racks which longing bears.
    Pinched with desires which yet but wishing rears
    Firm in my faith, in constancy to move,

Yet is it said that sure love cannot be
    Where so small show of passion is descried,
    When thy chief pain is that I must it hide
    From all save only one who should it see.

For know more passion in my heart doth move
    Than in a million that make show of love.


F105 F105mod P98 P98mod

4

When I beeheld the Image of my deere
    wth greedy lookes mine eyes would that way bend,
    fear, and deſire did inwardly contend
    feare to bee mark'd, deſire to drawe still neere,

And in my ſoule a speritt wowld apeer,
    wch boldnes waranted, and did pretend
    to bee my genius, yett I durst nott lend
    my eyes in trust wher others seemd ſoe cleere,

Then did I ſearch from whence this danger 'roſe,
    if ſuch vnworthynes in mee did rest
    as my steru'd eyes must nott[transcription_note: nott has been added. Paul may want to note this.] wth ſight bee blest;
    when iealouſie her poyſon did diſcloſe;

Yett in my hart vnſeene of iealous eye
the truer Image shall in triumph lye;


Crown sonnet 2.4 ('When I beheld')

When I beheld the image of my dear
    With greedy looks mine eyes would that way bend,
    Fear and desire did inwardly contend:
    Fear to be marked, desire to draw still near.

And in my soul a spirit would appear,
    Which boldness warranted, and did pretend
    To be my genius, yet I durst not lend
    My eyes in trust where others seemed so clear.

Then did I search from whence this danger 'rose,
    If such unworthiness in me did rest
    As my starved eyes must not with sight be blest;
    When jealousy her poison did disclose;

Yet in my heart unseen of jealous eye
    The truer image shall in triumph lie.

4.

When I beheld the Image of my deare,
    With greedy lookes mine eies would that way bend,
    Feare, and Deſire, did inwardly contend;
    Feare to be mark'd, Deſire to draw ſtill neere.

And in my ſoule a Spirit would appeare,
    Which boldnes waranted, and did pretend
    To be my Genius; yet I durſt not lend,
    My eyes in truſt, where others ſeem'd ſo cleare.

Then did I ſearch, from whence this danger roſe,
    If ſuch vnworthyneſſe in me did reſt,
    As my ſtaru'd eyes muſt not with ſight be bleſt,
    When Iealouſie her poyſon did diſcloſe.

Yet in my heart vnſeene of Iealous eye,
The truer Image ſhall in tryumph lye.
Crown sonnet 2. 4 ('When I beheld')

When I beheld the image of my dear
    With greedy looks mine eyes would that way bend,
    Fear and desire did inwardly contend:
    Fear to be marked, desire to draw still near.

And in my soul a spirit would appear,
    Which boldness warranted, and did pretend
    To be my genius, yet I durst not lend
    My eyes in trust where others seemed so clear.

Then did I search from whence this danger 'rose,
    If such unworthiness in me did rest
    As my starved eyes must not with sight be blest;
    When jealousy her poison did disclose;

Yet in my heart unseen of jealous eye
    The truer image shall in triumph lie.


F106 F106mod P99 P99mod

5.

Like to huge clowds of ſmoke wch well may hide
    the face of fairest day though for awhile,
    ſoe wrongs may shadow mee, till truth doe ſmile,
    and iustice (ſun like) hath thoſe vapors tride,

O doting Time, canst thou for shame lett slide
    ſoe many minutes while ills doe beguile,
    thy age, and worth, and faulshoods thus defile
    thy ancient good, wher now butt croſses 'bide,

Looke once butt vp, and leaue thy toyling pace,
    and on my myſeries thy dim eyes place
    goe nott ſoe fast, butt giue my care ſome end,

Turne nott thy glas (alas) vnto my ill
    ſince thou wth ſand itt can nott ſoe farr fill
    butt to each one my ſorrows will >doe< extend,


Crown sonnet 2.5 ('Like to huge clouds')

Like to huge clouds of smoke which well may hide
    The face of fairest day, though for a while,
    So wrongs* may shadow me, till truth do smile,
    And justice (sun-like) hath those vapours tried.*

O doting Time, canst thou for shame let slide*
    So many minutes while ills do beguile
    Thy age, and worth, and falsehoods thus defile
    Thy ancient good, where now but crosses 'bide,

Look once but* up, and leave thy toiling pace,
    And on my miseries thy dim eyes* place.
    Go not so fast, but give my care some end.

Turn not thy glass* (alas) unto my ill,
    Since thou with sand it cannot* so far fill
    But to each one my sorrows will* extend.


'wrongs' = 'wrong' in P.
'tried' = 'tied' in P.
'slide' = slid in P.
'once but' = 'but once' in P.
'eyes' = 'eye' in P.
Glass: ie hourglass.
'cannot': F's 'can not' = 'canst not' in P.
'will': in F 'do' overwritten as will, 'will' in P.
5.

Like to huge Clowdes of ſmoake which well may hide
    The face of faireſt day, though for a while:
    So wrong may ſhaddow me, till truth doe ſmile,
    And Iuſtice Sunne-like hath thoſe vapours tyde.

O doating Time, canſt thou for ſhame let ſlid,
    So many minutes, while ills doe beguile
    Thy age, and worth, and falſhoods thus defile
    Thy auncient good, where now but croſſes bide?

Looke but once vp, and leaue thy toyling pace
    And on my miſeries thy dimme eye place,
    Goe not ſo faſt, but giue my care ſome ende,

Turne not thy glaſſe (alas) vnto my ill
    Since thou with ſand it canſt not ſo farre fill,
    But to each one my ſorrowes will extend.
Crown sonnet 2.5 ('Like to huge clouds' )

Like to huge clouds of smoke which well may hide
    The face of fairest day though for a while,
    So wrong may shadow me, till truth do smile,
    And justice (sun-like) hath those vapours tied.

O doting Time, canst thou for shame let slid*
    So many minutes while ills do beguile
    Thy age, and worth, and falsehoods thus defile
    Thy ancient good, where now but crosses 'bide,

Look but once up, and leave thy toiling pace,
    And on my miseries thy dim eye place.
    Go not so fast, but give my care some end.

Turn not thy glass (alas) unto my ill,
    Since thou with sand it canst not so far fill
    But to each one my sorrows will extend.


slid: a transcription error for slide.

F107 F107mod P100 P100mod

6.

O! that noe day would euer more appeere,
    butt clowdy night to gouerne this ſad place,
    nor light from heau'n thes haples rooms to grace
    ſince that light's shadow'd wch my loue holds deere;

Lett thickest mists in enuy master heere,
    and ſunn=borne day for malice showe noe face,
    diſdaining light wher Cupid, and the race
    of Louers are dispiſde, and shame shines cleere,

Lett mee bee darke, ſince bard of my chiefe light;
    and wounding iealouſie commands by might;
    butt stage play like diſguiſed pleaſures giue;

To mee itt ſeems as ancient fictions make
    the starrs all fashions, and all shapes partake
    while in my thoughts true forme of loue shall liue,


Crown sonnet 2.6 ('O that no day')

O! that no day would ever more appear,
    But cloudy night to govern this sad place,
    Nor light from Heaven these hapless rooms to grace
    Since that light's shadowed which my love holds dear.

Let thickest mists in envy master here,
    And sun-born day for malice show no face,
    Disdaining light where Cupid, and the race
    Of lovers, are despised, and shame shines clear.

Let me be dark, since barred of my chief light,
    And wounding jealousy commands by might;
    But stage-play-like* disguised pleasures give;

To me it seems as ancient fictions make
    The stars all fashions and all shapes partake,
    While in my thoughts true form of love shall live.


stage-play-like: Wroth uses images of plays and acting on a number of occasions, perhaps in part deriving from her own experience of performing in court masques.
6.

O that no day would euer more appeare,
    But clowdy night to gouerne this ſad place,
    Nor light from Heauen theſe haples roomes to grace
    Since that light's ſhadow'd which my Loue holds deare.

Let thickeſt miſts in enuy maſter here,
    And Sunne-borne day for malice ſhow no face,
    Diſdaining light, where Cupid, and the race
    Of Louers are deſpiſd, and ſhame ſhines cleere.

Let me be darke, ſince barr'd of my chiefe light,
    And wounding Iealouſie commands by might,
    But ſtage-play-like diſguiſed pleaſures giue:

To me it ſeemes, as ancient fictions make
    The Starrs, all faſhious, and all ſhapes partake,
    While in my thoughts true forme of Loue ſhall liue.
Crown sonnet 2.6 ('O that no day')

O! that no day would ever more appear,
    But cloudy night to govern this sad place,
    Nor light from Heaven these hapless rooms to grace
    Since that light's shadowed which my love holds dear.

Let thickest mists in envy master here,
    And sun-born day for malice show no face,
    Disdaining light where Cupid and the race
    Of lovers are despised, and shame shines clear.

Let me be dark, since barred of my chief light,
    And wounding jealousy commands by might,
    But stage-play-like disguised pleasures give;

To me it seems as ancient fictions make
    The stars all fashions and all shapes partake,
    While in my thoughts true form of love shall live.


F108 F108mod P101 P101mod

7.

No time, noe roome, noe thought, nor writing can
    giue rest, or quiett to my louing hart,
    nor can my memory or phantſie ſcan
    the meaſure of my still renuing ſmart,

Yett would I nott (deere loue) thou should'st depart
    butt lett thy paſsions as they first began
    rule, wounde, and pleaſe, itt is thy choyſest art
    to giue disquiett wch ſeemes eaſe to man;

When all alone, I thinke vpon thy paine
    how thou doest traueile owr best ſelues to gaine;
    then howerly thy leſsons doe I learne,

Think on thy glory wch shall still aſsend
    vntill the world come to a finall end,
    and then shall wee thy lasting powre deſerne


Crown sonnet 2.7 ('No time, no room')

No time, no room, no thought, nor* writing can
    Give rest, or quiet to my loving heart,
    Nor* can my memory or fancy scan
    The measure of my still-renewing smart.

Yet would I not (dear love) thou shouldst depart
    But let thy* passions as they first began
    Rule, wound, and please, it is thy choicest art
    To give disquiet which seems ease to man;

When all alone I think upon thy pain,
    How thou dost travail our best selves to gain;
    Then hourly thy lessons do I* learn,

Think on thy glory which shall still ascend
    Until the world come to a final end,
    And then shall we thy lasting power discern.


'nor' = 'or' in P.
'nor' = 'or' in P.
'thy' = 'my' in P.
'do I' = 'I do' in P.
7.

No time, no roome, no thought, or writing can
    Giue reſt, or quiet to my louing heart,
    Or can my memory, or Phant'ſie ſcan,
    The meaſure of my ſtill renewing ſmart.

Yet whould I not (deare Loue) thou ſhouldſt depart,
    But let my paſſions as they firſt began,
    Rule, wound, and pleaſe, it is thy choyſeſt Art,
    To giue diſquiet, which ſeemes eaſe to man.

When all alone, I thinke vpon thy paine,
    How thou doſt trauell our beſt ſelues to gaine,
    Then houerly thy leſſons I doe learne;

Thinke on thy glory, which ſhall ſtill aſcend,
    Vntill the world come to a finall end,
    And then ſhall we thy laſting powre dicerne.
Crown sonnet 2.7 ('No time, no room')

No time, no room, no thought, or writing can
    Give rest, or quiet to my loving heart,
    Or can my memory or fancy scan
    The measure of my still-renewing smart.

Yet would I not (dear love) thou shouldst depart,
    But let my passions as they first began
    Rule, wound, and please, it is thy choicest art
    To give disquiet which seems ease to man;

When all alone I think upon thy pain,
    How thou dost travail our best selves to gain;
    Then hourly thy lessons I do learn,

Think on thy glory which shall still ascend
    Until the world come to a final end,
    And then shall we thy lasting power discern.


F109 F109mod P102 P102mod

8.

How gloewoorme like the ſunn doth now apeere
    colde beames doe from his gloriouſe face deſend
    wch showes his days, and force draw to an end,
    or that to leaue taking his time growes neere,

This day his face did ſeeme butt pale, though cleere
    the reaſon is hee to the north must lend
    his light, and warmth must to that climate bend
    whoſe frozen parts cowld nott loues heat hold deere,

Alas if thou (bright ſun) to part from hence
    grieue ſoe, what must I haples? who from thence
    wher thou dost goe my bleſsing shall attend

Thou shalt inioye that ſight for wch I dy,
    and in my hart thy fortunes doe enuy,
    yett grieue, I'le loue thee, for this state may mend



Crown sonnet 2.8 ('How glowworm like the sun')

How glowworm-like the sun doth now appear,
    Cold beams do from his glorious face descend,
    Which shows his days and force draw to an end,
    Or that to leave-taking his time grows near.

This* day his face did seem but pale, though clear,
    The reason is: he to the North must lend
    His light, and warmth must to that climate bend
    Whose frozen parts could not love's heat hold dear.

Alas if thou (bright sun) to part from hence
    Grieve so, what must I, hapless, who from thence
    Where thou dost go my blessing shall attend?

Thou shalt enjoy that sight for which I die,
    And in my heart thy fortunes do envy --
    Yet grieve, I'll love thee, for this state may mend.*


Roberts notes a parallel with the imagery of John Donne's 'A Nocturnal Upon St Lucy's day':

    'Tis the year's midnight, and it is the day's,
    Lucy's, who scarce seven hours herself unmasks ;
    The sun is spent, and now his flasks
    Send forth light squibs, no constant rays ;
    The world's whole sap is sunk ;
    The general balm th' hydroptic earth hath drunk,
    Whither, as to the bed's-feet, life is shrunk,
    Dead and interred ; yet all these seem to laugh,
    Compared with me, who am their epitaph.

'This' = 'thee' in P.
'mend' = ' 'mend' in P: the apostrophe indicating an abbreviation of amend which may also be intended in F.
8.


How Glowworme-like the Sun doth now appeare,
    Cold beames doe from his glorious face deſcend
    Which ſhewes his daies, and force draw to an ende,
    Or that to leaue taking, his time growes neere.

The day his face did ſeeme but pale, though cleare,
    The reaſon is, he to the North muſt lend
    His light, and warmth muſt to that Climat bend,
    Whoſe frozen parts could not loues heat hold deare

Alas, if thou bright Sunne to part from hence
    Grieue ſo, what muſt I hapleſſe who from thence,
    Where thou doſt goe my bleſſing ſhall attend;

Thou ſhalt enioy that ſight for which I dye,
    And in my heart thy fortunes doe enuy,
    Yet grieue, I'le loue thee, for this ſtate may 'mend.
Crown sonnet 2.8 ('How glowworm like the sun')

How glowworm-like the sun doth now appear,
    Cold beams do from his glorious face descend,
    Which shows his days and force draw to an end,
    Or that to leave-taking his time grows near.

The day his face did seem but pale, though clear,
    The reason is: he to the North must lend
    His light, and warmth must to that climate bend
    Whose frozen parts could not love's heat hold dear.

Alas if thou (bright sun) to part from hence
    Grieve so, what must I, hapless, who from thence
    Where thou dost go my blessing shall attend?

Thou shalt enjoy that sight for which I die,
    And in my heart thy fortunes do envy --
    Yet grieve, I'll love thee, for this state may 'mend.*


'mend: if the initial apostrophe is intended this is an abbreviation for amend, perhaps with a pun on 'mend'.

F110 F110mod P103 P103mod



My muſe now hapy, lay thy ſelf to rest
    sleepe in the quiett of a faithfull loue,
    write you noe more, butt lett thes phant'ſies moue
    ſome other harts, wake nott to new vnrest,

Butt if you study, bee thoſe thoughts adrest
    to truth, wch shall eternall goodnes proue;
    inioying of true ioye, the most, and best,
    the endles gaine wch neuer will remoue;

Leaue the diſcource of Venus, and her ſun
    to young beeginers, and theyr brains inspire
    wth storys of great loue, and from that fire
    gett heat to write the fortunes they haue wun,

And thus leaue of what's past showes you can loue,
Now lett your constancy your honor proue;

Pamphilia


Crown sonnet 2.9 ('My muse now happy')

My Muse, now happy, lay thyself to rest,
    Sleep in the quiet of a faithful love,
    Write you no more, but let these fancies move
    Some other hearts; wake not to new unrest,

But if you study, be those thoughts addressed
    To truth, which shall eternal goodness prove;
    Enjoying of true joy, the most, and best,
    The endless gain which never will remove.

Leave the discourse of Venus and her son*
    To young beginners, and their brains inspire
    With stories of great love, and from that fire
    Get heat to write the fortunes they have won,

And thus leave off:* what's past shows you can love,
    Now let your constancy your honour prove.

Pamphilia


This sonnet is moved in P to be the final sonnet [P103] in the sequence printed at the end of Urania (fols. 47-8); the signature of 'Pamphilia' is replaced by 'FINIS'. While in the manuscript it is followed by other poems, the fact that it is there signed 'Pamphilia' (and its theme) indicate that it concludes the sequence if not the MS volume as a whole. The sonnet seems like a resolution of not just 'Pamphilia's' dismay at being subject to desire for an unreliable lover, but also a resolution of Wroth's treatment of love and desire from a female perspective.

'son': 'sun' in the MS, 'son' in P and in this case while a pun on son/sun may be present at some distance, 'son' is surely the primary meaning in context.
'off': 'of' in MS, 'off' in P and off seems intended.
9.

My Muſe now happy lay thy ſelfe to reſt,
    Sleepe in the quiet of a faithfull loue,
    Write you no more, but let theſe Phant'ſies mooue
    Some other hearts, wake not to new vnreſt.

But if you Study be thoſe thoughts adreſt
    To truth, which ſhall eternall goodnes prooue;
    Enioying of true ioy the moſt, and beſt
    The endles gaine which neuer will remoue.

Leaue the diſcourſe of Venus, and her ſonne
    To young beginners, and their braines inſpire
    With ſtoryes of great Loue, and from that fire,
    Get heat to write the fortunes they haue wonne.

And thus leaue off; what's paſt ſhewes you can loue,
Now let your Conſtancy your Honor proue.

FINIS.
Crown sonnet 2.9 ('My muse now happy')

My Muse, now happy, lay thyself to rest,
    Sleep in the quiet of a faithful love,
    Write you no more, but let these fancies move
    Some other hearts; wake not to new unrest,

But if you study, be those thoughts addressed
    To truth, which shall eternal goodness prove;
    Enjoying of true joy, the most, and best,
    The endless gain which never will remove.

Leave the discourse of Venus and her son
    To young beginners, and their brains inspire
    With stories of great love, and from that fire
    Get heat to write the fortunes they have won,

And thus leave off: what's past shows you can love,
    Now let your constancy your honour prove.


F111 F111mod

Sonett .

Vnquiet griefe ſearch farder, in my hart
    if place bee found wch thou hast nott poſsest
    or ſoe much space can build hopes ſmalest nest
    take itt from mee, I ame the lodg of ſmart,

Despaire, dispaire hath vſ'd the skilfulst art
    to ruin hope, and murder eaſfull rest,
    O mee, dispaire my vine of hope hath prest
    rauisht the grapes the leaues left for my part:

Yett ruler griefe, nor thou dispaire deny
    this last request, proclaime t'was nott ſuspect
        grafted this bud of ſorrow in my brest

Butt knowledg dayly doth my loſs deſcry
    colde loue's now maskd wt care; chang wt respect
        When true flames liu'd thes faulse fires were ſupprest;


Sonnet 11 ('Unquiet grief')

Unquiet grief search farther in my heart
    If place be found which thou hast not possessed,
    Or so much space can build hope's smallest nest,
    Take it from me, I am* the lodge of smart,

Despair, despair hath used the skilfullest art
    To ruin hope, and murder easeful rest,
    O me, despair my vine of hope hath pressed,
    Ravished the grapes, the leaves left for my part.

Yet ruler grief, nor thou despair deny
    This last request, proclaim* 'twas not suspect*
    Grafted this bud of sorrow in my breast,

But knowledge daily doth my loss descry,
    Cold love's now masked* with care, change with respect,
    When true flames lived these false fires were suppressed.


In U this powerful sonnet is reluctantly read by Pamphilia to Meriana when Meriana begs to hear some of her poetry (fol. 392).

'from me, I am' = ' 'tis thine, mine is' in U.
'proclaim' = 'proclaims' in U.
suspect: ie suspicion.
'masked' = matched' in U.


F112 F112mod

Sonett

Can the lou'd Image of thy deerest face,
    ſoe miroir like preſent thee to my ſight
    yett Cristalls coldenes gaine loues ſweetest place
    When warmth wth ſight hath euer equall might

You ſay t'is butt the picture of true light
    wherof my hart is made the ſafest caſe
    faithfully keeping that rich pourtraits right
    from change or thought yt relique to displace,

My brest doth nourish itt, and wth itt liues
    as oyle to Lamps theyr lasting beeing giues
    each looke alures a wish of meeting ioye;

Iff butt a picture, then restore wth eaſe
    the lyfe peece of my ſoule, and lett itt ſeaze
    this chillnes into heate, and barrs destroy;


Sonnet 12 ('Can the loved image')

Can the loved image of thy dearest face,
    So mirror-like, present thee to my sight,
    Yet crystal's coldness gain love's sweetest place
    When warmth with sight hath ever equal might.

You say 'tis but the picture of true light
    Whereof my heart is made the safest case,
    Faithfully keeping that rich portrait's right
    From change or thought that relic to displace.

My breast doth nourish it, and with it lives
    As oil to lamps their lasting being gives,
    Each look allures a wish of meeting joy.

If but a picture, then restore with ease
    The life-piece of my soul, and let it seize
    This chillness into heat, and bars destroy.


This sonnet is only present in the manuscript. The subtle play between image/picture and original is impressive and it is puzzling as to why Wroth would not have included it in the published sequence or within Urania.


F113 F113mod

Sonett

Oft did I wounder why the ſweets of Loue
    were counted paines, sharp wounds, and cruell ſmarts
    till one blow ſent from heaunly face prou'd darts
    enough to make thoſe deem'd=ſweets bitter proue,

One shaft did force my best strength to remoue,
    and armies brought of thoughts, wch thought imparts,
    one shaft ſoe spent may conquer courts of harts
    one shott butt dubly ſent my sprite did moue:

Tow sparckling eyes were gainers of my loſs
    while loue=begetting lips theyr gaine did croſs,
    and chaleng'd haulf of my hart=master'd priſe,

Itt humbly did confeſs they wan the field,
    yett equall was theyr force, ſoe did itt yeeld
    equally still to ſerue thoſe lips, and eyes;


Sonnet 13 9 ('Of did I wonder')

Oft did I wounder why the sweets of love
    Were counted pains, sharp wounds, and cruel smarts,
    Till one blow sent from heavenly face proved darts
    Enough to make those deemed sweets bitter prove.

One shaft* did force my best strength to remove,
    And armies brought of thoughts, which thought imparts,
    One shaft so spent may conquer courts of hearts,
    One shot but doubly sent my spirit* did move.

Two sparkling eyes were gainers of my loss,
    While love-begetting lips their gain did cross,
    And challenged half of my heart-mastered prize,

It humbly did confess they won the field,
    Yet equal was their force, so did it yield
    Equally still to serve those lips, and eyes.


This sonnet is only in the Folger manuscript [F].

    One shaft: that is, an arrow from Cupid's bow.
    spirit: Wroth writes 'sprite' as she does in most instances for spirit.


F114 F114mod U52 U52mod













.1.

A sheapherd who noe care did take
    of aught butt of his flock
whoſe thoughts noe pride cowld higher make
    then to maintaine his stock,
Whoſe sheepe his loue was, and his care
    theyr good his best delight,
the lambs his ioye, theyr sport his fare,
    his pleaſure was theyr ſight,

2.

Till loue, an enuier of mans blis
    did turne this merry lyfe
to cares, to wishes wch ne're miſs
    incombrances wth strife,
for wheras hee was best content
    wth looking on his sheepe
his time in woes must now bee spent,
    and broken is his sleepe;

3.

Thus first his woefull chang began
    a lambe hee chanc'd to miſs
wch to find out about hee ran
    yett finds nott wher itt is,
Butt as hee past O! fate vnkind
    his ill lead him that way
wheras a willow tree behind
    a faire young mayden lay;

4.

Her bed was on the humble ground
    her hed vpon her hand
While ſighs did show her hart was bound
    in lou's fast tying band,
clear tears her cleerest eyes lett fall
    vpon her loue borne face
wch heaunly drops did ſorrow call
    prowd wittnes of diſgrace;

5.

The sheapherd stayd, and fed his eyes
    nor furder might hee pas
but ther his freedome to ſight ties
    his bondage his ioye was,
His lambe hee deems nott haulf ſoe faire
    though itt were very white,
and liberty hee thinks a care
    nor breathes butt in her ſight;

6.

His former lyfe is alterd quite
    his sheep feed in her eyes
her face his field is of delight,
    and flocks hee doth dispiſe;
The rule of them hee leaues to none
    his ſcrip hee threw away,
and many hee forſakes for one
    one hee must now obay:

7.

Vnhapy man whoſe looſing found
    what better had bin lost
whoſe gaine doth spring from ſuch a grownd
    wherby hee must bee crost,
The worldly cares hee now neglects
    for Cupids ſeruice ties
care only to his fond respects
    wher wauelike treaſure lies,

8.

As this lost man still gazing stood
    amaſed att ſuch light
imagining noe heaunly food
    to feed on butt her ſight
wishing her bright beams to behold
    yett grieud hee for her griefe
when mournfully she did vnfolde
    her woes wthout reliefe

9.

His new ſun roſe, and riſing ſayd
    farwell faire willow tree
the triumph of my state decayd
    the fruit for haples mee,
What though thy branch a ſigne be made
    of labor lost in loue:
thy beauty doth noe ſooner vade
    then thoſe best fortunes moue;

10.

My ſongs shall end wt willow still
    thy branches I will weare
thou wilt accompany my ill,
    and wt mee ſorrow beare,
true freind ſayd she, then ſigh'd, and turn'd
    leauing that restles place,
and sheapheard who in paſsion burn'd
    lamenting his ſad caſe;

11.

The mayd thus gon, alone he left,
    still on her steps he gaz'd,
and hartles growne by loue bereft
    of mirth, in spiritt rayſd,
to ſatiſfy his toyling thought
    hee after her will hy,
his ruin to bee ſurer bought,
    and ſooner harme to try,

12.