Thomas Lodge

Sonnets to Phillis. 32

      A thousand times to think and think the same,
    To two fair eyes to show a naked heart,
    Great thirst with bitter liquor to restrain,
    To take repast of care and crooked smart;
      To sigh full oft without relent of ire,
    To die for grief and yet conceal the tale,
    To others' will to fashion my desire,
    To pine in looks disguised through pensive-pale;
      A short dispite, a faith unfeignèd true,
    To love my foe, and set my life at naught,
    With heedless eyes mine endless harms to view,
    A will to speak, a fear to tell the thought;
      To hope for all, yet for despair to die,
      Is of my life the certain destiny.