Tottel sig. Oir | Verse Miscellanies Online

[sig. Oir]

Vpon consideration of the state
of this life he wisheth death. +An example of the gradation or climax otherwise known as the marching figure, see Puttenham’s discussion of this figure, although he does not cite this verse, Art of English Poesie , p. 172; edited by Whigham and Rebhorn , pp. 292-3. For another use of this figure, see Phoenix Nest , ‘A most excellent passion set down’, ll. 31-36, ‘Loe thus… let me die’. * Other copies in: L: Add. 26737, fol. 108v (lines 7-18); O: Rawl. Poet. 85, fol. 115v; L: Sloane 159, fol. 23; C: Ff.5.14, fol. 4v. Author: attributed to Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey in O: Rawl. Poet. 85, and to W[illiam] M[ore] in L: Add. 26737, L: Sloane 159, and C: Ff.5.14. Structure: 18: 3×6 ababcC8

T He lengerlonger  life, the more offence: The more offence the greater paine, The greater paine, the lesse defence: The lesse defence, the lesser gaine  The losse of gaine long yll doth trye: + ‘tests ability to cope with lengthy misfortune’                            ( Holton/MacFaul  ). Wherfore come death, and let me dye. The shorter life, lesse countaccount  I fynde, The lesse account, the soner made: The countaccount  soone made, the merier mind:  The merier minde doth thought euade, Short life in truth this thing doth trie. Wherefore come death, and let me dye. Come gentle death, the ebbe of caregrief, trouble , The ebbe of caregrief, trouble  the flood of lyfe.  The flood of life, the ioifull farestate of things , The ioyfull fare, the end of strife, The ende of strife, that thing wishe I: wherefore come death, and let me dye. 

The louer that once disdained loue
is now become subiect being
canght in his snare. +Another copy in ARUND: Harrington, Temp. Eliz., c. 1550-92, fols. 120v-21v. Author: version, without the first stanza, was attributed to John Harington by Henry Harington under the title ‘Sonnet by John Harington, 1554’, in Nugae Antiquae , I. 91-2. Structure: 60: 10×6 ababcc8

T O this my songe geuegive, lend  eare who listdesire And mine intent iudge as ye will, The time is come, that I haue mystemissed , The thing wheron I hoped styll,  And from the toppe of all my trustconfidence , Mishap hath throwen me in the dust. The time hath bene and that of late: My hart and I might leape at largeat liberty , And was not shut within the gate  Of looues desire: nor toke no charge Of any thing, that did pertaine 