GorgeousGallery sig. Diiiir | Verse Miscellanies Online

[sig. Diiiir]

Yet in my hart this worde shall sinke, Untill the proofe may better  beebée I would it were not as I thinke, I would I thought it were not. 

FINIS.

¶ An exellent Sonet, Wherin the Louer exclaymeth agaynst
Detraction, beeing the principall cause of all his care.
To the tune, when Cupid scaled first the Fort. +The tune is named for the first line of Vaux’s poem ‘Thassault of Cupide vpon the fort where louers hart lay wounded’ in Tottel . See Ballad Tunes . It borrows a number of lines from Vaux’s poem, for example, ll. 5-6, 8, 10-13. * Author: unattributed. Structure (May/Ringler): 72: 18×4 abab8

P Asse forth in doulfull dumpessorrowful melancholy, dejection  my                            verse, Thy Masters heauy hapsbad                               fortune  vnfolde: His  grisledhorrible  greefegréefe eache hart well perce, Display his woes, feare not,  beebée  bould  Hid holepossibly meaning                               concealed fully, whole  in heapes of heauinesse His dismale dayes are almost spentcome                               to an end , For fate, which forgde this ficklenesse My youthly yeares with teares hath sprent. I lothe the lingring life I led  O wished death why stayest thy hand, Sith gladsome Ioyes away  beebée fled: And linkte I am in Dollorsphysical                               suffering, pain  bande. In weltringraging,                               surging  waues my ship is tost My shattering sayles away  beebée shorne,  My Anker from the Stearne is lost And Tacklings from the Maynyardmain                               yard, the yard which carries the mainsail  storne. Thus driuen with euery gale of winde My weather beaten Barkesmall ship                             doth sayle, Still hoping harbor once to finde  Which may these passinge perrils quaylewhich may result in these fleeting, yet fatal dangers coming to                               nothing . But outan exclamation                               expressing grief or reproach  alas, in vayne I hope Sithsince  Billowes prowd, assault  meemée  still And skill doth want with Seas to copeI                               lack the skills to cope with the seas And licour saltesalt water  my  KeeleKéele doth fill. 