As I draw neere with fearefull stepps to see those heavenly eyes, the planetts of my fate Such fervent fyre fourthwith doth seyse on me as that throughe payne my life I have in hate What shoulde I doo to ease my griefe withall but shunne your sight, I take yt best advyse Yett so into as greate extreames I fall for then from heate I growe as colde as yse I quake and quyver in each parte and vayne and from my harte the lyvelye bloode doth runn Such straunge effectes throughe yow I do retain then blame me not to call your face the Sunne Since from your syghte the winters colde I trye and in your sighte like sommers heate I frye. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THIRD BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 7. OF PLEASURE AND PAIN by THOMAS CAMPION A SHORT SONG OF CONGRATULATION by SAMUEL JOHNSON (1709-1784) LOCHABER NO MORE by ALLAN RAMSAY IDYLLS OF THE KING: PELLEAS AND ETTARRE by ALFRED TENNYSON AN ODE OF ANACREON by ANACREON THE BALLAD OF ORISKANY by OBADIAH CYRUS AURINGER THE UNPARDONABLE SIN by LOUISA SARAH BEVINGTON THE FOUR ZOAS: NIGHTS THE SEVENTH AND EIGHTH by WILLIAM BLAKE WRITTEN ON A GLOOMY DAY, IN SICKNESS. THACKWOOD, 4TH JUNE, 1786 by SUSANNA BLAMIRE |