Global Utilities

Mary Wroth's Poetry: An Electronic Edition

Wroth Poem - -

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P4 P4mod


Forbeare darke night, my ioyes now budd againe,
    Lately growne dead, while cold aſpects, did chill
    The roote at heart, and my chiefe hope quite kill,
    And thunders ſtrooke me in my pleaſures waine.

Then I alas with bitter ſobs, and paine,
    Priuately groan'd, my Fortunes preſent ill;
    All light of comfort dimb'd, woes in prides fill,
    With ſtrange encreaſe of griefe, I grieu'd in vaine.

And moſt, when as a memory to good
    Moleſted me, which ſtill as witnes ſtood,
    Of thoſe beſt dayes, in former time I knew:

Late gone as wonders paſt, like the great Sow,
    Melted and waſted, with what, change muſt know:
    Now backe the life comes where as once it grew.

Forbear dark night, my joys now bud again,
    Lately grown dead, while cold aspects did chill
    The root at heart, and my chief hope quite kill,
    And thunders struck me in my pleasure's wane.

Then I alas with bitter sobs, and pain,
    Privately groaned my fortune's present ill;
    All light of comfort dimmed, woes in pride's fill,
    With strange increase of grief, I grieved in vain.

And most, when as a memory to good
    molested me, which still as witness stood,
    Of those best days, in former time I knew:

Late gone as wonders past, like the great Snow,*
    Melted and wasted, with what, change must know:
    Now back the life comes, whereas once it grew.

'Sow' in P text is clearly a transcription error: 'the' great snow is, as Roberts notes, hard to pin down as there were a number of famously cold winters in the early seventeenth century.

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