My Lady mine, I send These sighs in joy to thee Though, loving till the end, There were no hope for me That I should speak my love; And I have loved indeed, Though, having fearful heed, It was not spoken of. Thou art so high and great That whom I love I fear; Which thing to circumstate I have no messenger: Wherefore to Love I pray, On whom each lover cries, That these my tears and sighs Find unto thee a way. Well have I wished, when I At heart with sighs have ach'd, That there were in each sigh Spirit and intellect, The which, where thou dost sit, Should kneel and sue for aid, Since I am thus afraid And have no strength for it. Thou, lady, killest me, Yet keepest me in pain, For thou must surely see How, fearing, I am fain. Ah! why not send me still Some solace, small and slight, So that I should not quite Despair of thy good will? Thy grace, all else above, Even now while I implore, Enamoreth my love To love thee still the more. Yet scarce should I know well -- A greater love to gain, Even if a greater pain, Lady, were possible. Joy did that day relax My grief's continual stress, When I essayed in wax Thy beauty's life-likeness. Ah! much more beautiful Than golden-haired Yseult, -- Who mak'st all men exult, Who bring'st all women dule. And certes without blame Thy love might fall to me, Though it should chance my name Were never heard of thee Yea, for thy love, in fine, Lentino gave me birth, Who am not nothing worth If worthy to be thine. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NORTHERN FARMER, NEW STYLE by ALFRED TENNYSON THE LAST MAN: DREAM OF DYING by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES IN VINCULIS; SONNETS WRITTEN IN AN IRISH PRISON: I WILL SMILE NO MORE by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT THE FAR LOOK by MARGARET J. E. BROWN THE WANDERER: 5. IN HOLLAND: TO CORDELIA by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON THIRD BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 15 by THOMAS CAMPION GRACIE OG MACHREE by JOHN KEEGAN CASEY |