Global Utilities

Mary Wroth's Poetry: An Electronic Edition

Wroth Poem - F74 - Pray doe nott vſe thes words I must bee gone

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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.



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