The only bird alone that Nature frames,
When weary of the tedious life she lives
By fire dies, yet finds new life in flames;
Her ashes to her shape new essence give.
When only I, the only wretched wight,
Weary of life that breathes but sorrow's blasts;
Pursue the flame of such a beauty bright,
That burns my heart; and yet my life still lasts.
O sovereign light! that with thy sacred flame
Consumes my life, revive me after this!
And make me (with the happy bird) the same
That dies to live, by favour of thy bliss!
This deed of thine will show a goddess' power;
In so long death to grant one living hour.
SONNET IV.
Tears, vows and prayers gain the hardest hearts:
Tears, vows and prayers have I spent in vain.
Tears cannot soften flint, nor vows convert.
Prayers prevail not with a quaint disdain.
I lose my tears, where I have lost my love,
I vow my faith, where faith is not regarded,
I pray in vain a merciless to move;
So rare a faith ought better be rewarded.
Though frozen will may not be thawed with tears,
Though my soul's idol scorneth all my vows,
Though all my prayers be made to deafened ears,
No favour though the cruel Fair allows;
Yet will I weep, vow, pray to cruel She:
Flint, frost, disdain; wears, melts and yields, we see.
