Global Utilities

Mary Wroth's Poetry: An Electronic Edition

Wroth Poem - F33 - Fly hence o!, ioy noe longer heere abide

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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.



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