Thomas Lodge

Sonnets to Phillis. 16

    I part; but how? from joy, from hope, from life;
    I leave; but whom? love's pride, wit's pomp, heart's bliss;
    I pine; for what? for grief, for thought, for strife;
    I faint; and why? because I see my miss.
      Oh ceaseless pains that never may be told,
      You make me weep as I to water would!
    Ah weary hopes, in deep oblivious streams
    Go seek your graves, since you have lost your grounds!
    Ah pensive heart, seek out her radiant gleams!
    For why? Thy bliss is shut within those bounds!
      All traitorous eyes, to[o] feeble in for[e] sight,
      Grow dim with woe, that now must want your light!
    I part from bliss to dwell with ceaseless moan,
    I part from life, since I from beauty part,
    I part from peace, to pine in care alone,
    I part from ease to die with dreadful smart.
    I part--oh death! for why? this world contains
    More care and woe than with despair remains.
      Oh loath depart, wherein such sorrows dwell,
      As all conceits are scant the same to tell!