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THE TARANTULA OF LOVE.
But what shall I again in you review,
But rigours, frosts, denials and disdains;
And in that face from which doth aye ensue
The streaming course of my incessant pains,
A farther fairness, with a farther pride,
Which till my death, so long with thee must bide.
But rigours, frosts, denials and disdains;
And in that face from which doth aye ensue
The streaming course of my incessant pains,
A farther fairness, with a farther pride,
Which till my death, so long with thee must bide.
SONNET.
Far from these eyes, and sundered from that face,
Which with alluring looks hath me o'erta'en,
I move unmoved, I change unchanged each place,
And thereby think to mitigate my pain.
And while I thusways from your sight remain,
Remembering all the moments that are past,
Yea every hour that I have spent in vain,
In following you, where ye have fled as fast;
Unto this dial horolage, at last,
I me compare, where love the needle is;
My heart the glass, which shows all grace is past,
The thread my thought, the shadow but a kiss:
See me, who then would morning know by noon;
I am the dial, Sirs, and she the sun.
Which with alluring looks hath me o'erta'en,
I move unmoved, I change unchanged each place,
And thereby think to mitigate my pain.
And while I thusways from your sight remain,
Remembering all the moments that are past,
Yea every hour that I have spent in vain,
In following you, where ye have fled as fast;
Unto this dial horolage, at last,
I me compare, where love the needle is;
My heart the glass, which shows all grace is past,
The thread my thought, the shadow but a kiss:
See me, who then would morning know by noon;
I am the dial, Sirs, and she the sun.
finis.
Printed by Mundell & Son, Edinburgh.
ERRATUM.-P. 123.1.8. for covenanters, read anti-covenanters.
