LI
Each tree did boast the wished spring times pride,
When solitarie in the vale of love
I hid my selfe so from the world to hide
The uncouth passions which my heart did prove:
No tree whose branches did not bravelie spring,
No branch whereon a fine bird did not sit;
No bird but did her shrill notes sweetlie sing,
No song but did containe a lovelie dit.
Trees, branches, birds, and songs, were framed faire,
Fit to allure fraile mind to careles ease:
But carefull was my thought, yet in dispaire
I dwelt for brittle hope me cannot please.
For when I view my loves faire eies reflecting,
I entertaine dispaire, vaine hope rejecting.
~~
Thomas Watson (?1556-1592)
from The Tears of Fancie; or, Love disdained, 1593
[Poem is in the public domain worldwide]
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