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Poem by Giles Fletcher the Elder Licia Sonnets 34 Pale are my looks, forsaken of my life, Cinders my bones, consume'd with thy flame, Floods are my tears, to end this burning strife, And yet I sigh for to increase the same; I mourn alone because alone I burn; Who doubts of this, then let him learn to love; Her looks cold ice into a flame can turn, As I distresséd in myself do prove. Respect, fair Licia, what my torments are; Count but the tithe both of my sighs and tears; See how my love doth still increase my care, And care's increase my life to nothing wears. Send but a sigh my flame for to increase, Or lend a tear and cause it so to cease. Giles Fletcher the Elder Giles Fletcher the Elder's other poems: 1218 Views |
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