¶ Another Sonet. +
I N wonted walkes, since wonted fancies change, Some cause there is, which of strange cause doth rise: For in each thing whereto my minde doth range, Part of my paine me seemes engraued lies.
(5) The Rockes which were of constant minde, the marke In climbing steepe, now hard refusall show: The shading Woods seeme now my sunne to darke, And stately hils disdaine to looke so low.
The restfull Caues, now restlesse visions giue, (10) In dales I see each way a hard assent: Like late mowne Meades, late cut from ioy I liue, Alas, sweet Brookes, doe in my teares augment. Rocks, woods, hills, caues, dales, meades, brooks answer |(mee: Infected mindes infect each thing they see.
FINIS. S. Phil. Sidney.