A Collection of Poems/Sonnets to Sundry Notes of Musicke/'In black morne I, all fears scorne I'
IN black morne I, all fears scorne I,
Love hath forlorne me, living in thrall:
Heart is bleeding, all helpe needing,
O cruel speeding, fraughted with gall.
My shepherds pipe can sound no deale,
My weathers bell rings doleful knell;
My curtaile dogg that wont to have plaid,
Plaies not at all but seems afraid.
With sighs so deep, procures to weep,
In howling wise, to see my doleful plight,
How sighs resound through hartlesse ground,
Like a thousand vanquisht men in bloody fight.
Love hath forlorne me, living in thrall:
Heart is bleeding, all helpe needing,
O cruel speeding, fraughted with gall.
My shepherds pipe can sound no deale,
My weathers bell rings doleful knell;
My curtaile dogg that wont to have plaid,
Plaies not at all but seems afraid.
With sighs so deep, procures to weep,
In howling wise, to see my doleful plight,
How sighs resound through hartlesse ground,
Like a thousand vanquisht men in bloody fight.