Page:Shakespeare Collection of Poems.djvu/160

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148
SONNETS, &c.
ON a day (alacke the day)
Love whose month was ever May,
Spied a blossome passing fair,
Playing in the wanton air,
Through the velvet leaves the wind
All unseen gan passage find,
That the lover (sicke to death)
Wisht himselfe the heavens breath:
Ayre (quoth he) thy cheeks may blow,
Ayre, would I might triumph so;
But (alas) my hand hath sworne,
Nere to pluck thee from thy throne,
Vow (alacke) for youth unmeet,
Youth, so apt to pluck a sweet;
Thou for whom Jove would swear,
Juno but an Ethiope were,
And deny himself for Jove,
Turning mortal for thy Love.

MY flocks feede not, my Ewes breed not,
My Rams speed not, all is amis:
Love is dying, Faithes defying,
Hearts denying, causer of this.
All my merry Jigges are quite forgot,
All my Ladies love is lost (God wot)
Where her faith was firmely fixt in love,
There a nay is plac'd without remove.
One silly crosse wrought all my losse;
O frowning fortune, cursed fickle dame,

For