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Henry King, Bishop of Chichester (Генри Кинг, епископ Чичестерский)


Sonnet. Dry those fair, those chrystal eyes


Dry those fair, those chrystal eyes
Which like growing fountains rise
To drown their banks. Griefs sullen brooks
Would better flow in furrow'd looks.
Thy lovely face was never meant
To be the shoar of discontent.
Then clear those watrish starres again
Which else portend a lasting rain;
Lest the clouds which settle there
Prolong my Winter all the Year:
And the example others make
In love with sorrow for thy sake.



Henry King, Bishop of Chichester's other poems:
  1. To a Lady Who Sent me a Copy of Verses at my Going to Bed
  2. Psalm I
  3. Tell Me No More How Fair She Is
  4. The Short Wooing
  5. To His Friends of Christ-Church upon the Mislike of the Marriage of the Arts Acted at Woodstock


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