VIII
Why thus unjustly, say, my cruel fate,
Dost thou adjudge my luckless eyes and heart,
The one to live exiled from that sweet smart,
Where th' other pines, imprisoned without date?
My luckless eyes must never more debate
Of those bright beams that eased my love apart;
And yet my heart, bound to them with love's dart,
Must there dwell ever to bemoan my state.
O had mine eyes been suffered there to rest,
Often they had my heart's unquiet eased;
Or had my heart with banishment been blest,
Mine eye with beauty never had been pleased!
But since these cross effects hath fortune wrought,
Dwell, heart, with her; eyes, view her in my thought!
[The Sonnet numbered IX is by Sidney, and is found in the _Certaine
Sonets_ printed in the 1598 edition of the _Arcadia_.]
X
Hope, like the hyaena, coming to be old,
Alters his shape, is turned into despair.
Pity my hoary hopes, Maid of clear mould!
Think not that frowns can ever make thee fair.
What harm is it to kiss, to laugh, to play?
Beauty's no blossom, if it be not used.
Sweet dalliance keeps the wrinkles long away;
Repentance follows them that have refused.
To bring you to the knowledge of your good,
I seek, I sue. O try and then believe!
Each image can be chaste that's carved of wood.
You show you live, when men you do relieve.
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