Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, TO DELIA: 47, by SAMUEL DANIEL


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TO DELIA: 47, by             Poet's Biography
First Line: Like as the lute that joys or else dislikes
Last Line: And blessed hand that gives so sweet a touch!
Subject(s): Beauty; Love; Muses


Like as the lute that joys or else dislikes,
As is his art that plays upon the same,
So sounds my muse according as she strikes
On my heart strings, high tuned unto her fame.
Her touch doth cause the warble of the sound,
Which here I yield in lamentable wise,
A wailing descant on the sweetest ground,
Whose due reports give honor to her eyes.
Else harsh my style, untunable my muse;
Hoarse sounds the voice that praiseth not her name;
If any pleasing relish here I use,
Then judge the world her beauty gives the same.
O happy ground that makes the music such,
And blessed hand that gives so sweet a touch!





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