Posts tagged ‘sonnet 47’

Wednesday, 4 May 2016

Sonnet 47 by Bartholomew Griffin

I see, I hear, I feel, I know, I rue
My fate, my fame, my pain, my loss, my fall;
Mishap, reproach, disdain, a crown, her hue;
Cruel, still flying, false, fair, funeral,
To cross, to shame, bewitch, deceive, and kill
My first proceedings in their flowing bloom.
My worthless pen fast chainèd to my will,
My erring life through an uncertain doom,
My thoughts that yet in lowliness do mount,
My heart the subject of her tyranny:
What now remains, but her severe account
Of murder’s crying guilt (foul butchery!)
She was unhappy in her cradle breath,
That given was to be another’s death.


Date: 1596

By: Bartholomew Griffin (fl. 1596)

Wednesday, 22 January 2014

Sonnet 47 by Barnabe Barnes

Give me my Heart! For no man liveth heartles!
And now deprived of heart I am but dead,
(And since thou hast it, in his tables read!
Whether he rest at ease, in joys and smartless?
Whether beholding him thine eyes were dartless?
Or to what bondage his enthralment leads?)
Return, dear Heart! and me to mine restore!
Ah, let me thee possess! Return to me!
I find no means, devoid of skill and artless.
Thither return, where thou triumphed before!
Let me of him but repossessor be!
And when thou gives to me mine heart again
Thyself thou dost bestow! For thou art She!
Whom I call Heart! and of whom I complain.


Date: 1593

By: Barnabe Barnes (?1569-1609)