This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1890 Excerpt: ...me with her looks; Such art of eyes I never read in books 1 SONNET XXII. HlS holy season, fit to fast and pray, Men to devotion ought to be inclined: Therefore, I likewise, on so holy day, For my sweet saint some service fit will find. Her temple fair is built within my mind, In which her glorious image placed is, On ...
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This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1890 Excerpt: ...me with her looks; Such art of eyes I never read in books 1 SONNET XXII. HlS holy season, fit to fast and pray, Men to devotion ought to be inclined: Therefore, I likewise, on so holy day, For my sweet saint some service fit will find. Her temple fair is built within my mind, In which her glorious image placed is, On which my thoughts do day and night attend, Like sacred priests that never think amiss! There I to her, as th' author of my bliss, Will build an altar to appease her ire; And on the same my heart will sacrifice, Burning in flames of pure and chaste desire: The which vouchsafe, O goddess, to accept, Amongst thy dearest relics to be kept. SONNET XXIII. Ienelope, for her Ulysses' sake, Devis'd a web her wooers to deceive; In which the work that she all day did make, The same at night she did again unreave: Such subtle craft my damsel doth conceive, Th' importune suit of my desire to shun: For all that I in many days do weave, In one short hour I find by her undone. So, when I think to end that I begun, I must begin and never bring to end: For with one look she spills that long I spun; And with one word my whole year's work doth rend. Such labour like the spider's web I find, Whose fruitless work is broken with least wind. SONNET XXIV. HEN I behold that beauty's wonderment, And rare perfection of each goodly part; Of nature's skill the only complement; I honour and admire the Maker's art. But when I feel the bitter, baleful smart, Which her fair eyes unwares do work in me, That death out of their shiny beams do dart; I think that I a new Pandora see, Whom all the Gods in council did agree Into this sinful world from heaven to send; That she to wicked men a scourge should be, For all their faults with which they did offend. But, since ye are my scour...
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Add this copy of Elizabethan Sonnets, Newly Arranged and Indexed; Volume to cart. $57.41, good condition, Sold by Bonita rated 4.0 out of 5 stars, ships from Newport Coast, CA, UNITED STATES, published 2018 by Palala Press.
