Эдмунд Спенсер (Edmund Spenser)

Amoretti 52. So oft as homeward I from her depart

So oft as homeward I from her depart,
I go lyke one that, having lost the field,
Is prisoner led away with heavy hart,
Despoyld of warlike armes and knowen shield.
So doe I now my self a prisoner yield
To sorrow and to solitary paine,
From presence of my dearest deare exylde,
Long-while alone in languor to remaine.
There let no thought of ioy, or pleasure vaine,
Dare to approch, that may my solace breed;
But sudden* dumps**, and drery sad disdayne
Of all worlds gladnesse, more my torment feed.
  So I her absens will my penaunce make,
  That of her presens I my meed may take.

[* Sudden, Qu. sullen?]
[** Dumps, lamentations.] 

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