PhoenixNest sig. K1r | Verse Miscellanies Online

[sig. K1r]

  Oh deadly dart, that strooke so deepe a wound, Oh hatefull hap, to hit in such a place: The hart is hurt, and bleedes the bodie ouer: Yet cannot die, nor euer health recouer. 

Then he or she, that hath a happie hand,  To helpe a hart, that hath no hope to liue: Come, come with speede, and do not staying stand: But if no one, can any comfort giue, Run to the Church, and bid the Sexton toule A solemne knell, yet for a silie soule. 

 Harke how it sounds, that sorrow lasteth long: Long, long: long long: long long, and longer yet: Oh cruell death: thou doost me double wrong, To let me lie so long in such a fit: Yet when I die, write neighbors where I lie;  Long was I dead, ere death would let me die. 

T Hese lines I send by waues of woe, +Rollins compares this poem to Petrarch’s  Rime , 189: ‘Almo sol, quella                            fronde ch’io sola amo, tu prima amasti, or sola al bel soggiorno … ove’l mio cor con la sua donna alberga’, ‘Life-giving sun, you first loved that branch which                            is all I love; … where my heart dwells with this lady’, translation  Durling  . Translated by Desportes                             in  Diane , I.68; see also Lodge’s translation in  Rosalynde , (1590) and compare J. C.,  Alicia , (1595). Similar imagery appears in Du Bellay’s                             L’Olive , (1549), p. 41, and in Thomas Watson’s  The Hekatompathia , (1582), No. 85. The author may also have known Tito Vespasiano’s Strozzi’s verses                             Ad Antonium , Eroticon, book II,  Strozii Poetae Pater et Filius , (Paris, 1530), fols. 121v-122. Author: ‘Sir W. H.’, unidentified. Structure (May/Ringler): 14: aa14 And balemisery, sorrow, grief  becomes my boate: Which sighes of sorowes still shall keepe, On floods of feare afloate. 

 My sighes shall serue me still for winde, My ladingfreight, cargo  is my smart: And true report my pilot is, My hauen is thy hart. 

My keele is fram’d of crabbed care,  My ribs are all of ruthesorrow, grief, distress : My planks are nothing else but plantsplaints: complaints, laments , With treenailescylindrical pins of hard wood used for fastening timbers together  ioinde with truthe. 

My maine mast made of nought but mone, My tackling trickling teares: