XXIX. When, in difgrace with fortune and men's eyes, And trouble deaf heaven with my bootlefs cries, Yet in these thoughts myself almost defpifing, From fullen earth, fings hymns at heaven's gate: XXX. When to the feffions of sweet filent thought And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste : For precious friends hid in death's dateless night, And heavily from woe to woe tell o'er Which I new pay as if not paid before. But if the while I think on thee, dear friend, All loffes are restored and sorrows end. XXXI. Thy bofom is endeared with all hearts, And there reigns Love, and all Love's loving parts, Hath dear religious love ftol'n from mine eye, And thou, all they, haft all the all of me. XXXII. If thou furvive my well-contented day, When that churl Death my bones with duft fhall These poor rude lines of thy deceased lover, [cover, O, then vouchfafe me but this loving thought: But fince he died, and poets better prove, Theirs for their style I'll read, his for his love.' XXXIII. Full many a glorious morning have I seen With ugly rack on his celeftial face, And from the forlorn world his visage hide, Stealing unfeen to weft with this disgrace: Even fo my fun one early morn did shine With all-triumphant splendour on my brow; But, out, alack! he was but one hour mine, The region cloud hath mask'd him from me now. Yet him for this my love no whit difdaineth; Suns of the world may stain when heaven's fun ftaineth. |