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e made great Jove ofttimes transform his shape; Love made the fierce Alcides stoop at last; Achilles, stout and bold, could not escape The direful doom which love upon him cast; Love made Leander pass the dreadful flood Which Cestos from Abydos doth divide; Love made a chaos where proud Ilion stood, Through love the Carthaginian Dido died Thus may we see how love doth rule and reigns, Bringing those under which his power disdains XXVI Though you be fair and beautiful withal, And I am black for which you me despise, Know that your beauty subject is to fall, Though you esteem it at so high a price And time may come when that whereof you boast, Which is your youth's chief wealth and ornament, Shall withered be by winter's raging frost, When beauty's pride and flowering years are spent Then wilt thou mourn when none shall thee respect; Then wilt thou think how thou hast scorned my tears; Then pitiless each one will thee neglect, When hoary grey shall dye thy yellow hairs; Then wilt thou think upon poor Corin's case, Who loved thee dear, yet lived in thy disgrace XXVII O Love, leave off with sorrow to torment me; Let my heart's grief and pining pain content thee! The breach is made, I give thee leave to enter; Thee to resist, great god, I dare not venter! Restless desire doth aggravate mine anguish, Careful conceits do fill my soul with languish Be not too cruel in thy conquest gained, Thy deadly shafts hath victory obtained; Batter no more my fort with fierce affection, But shield me captive under thy protection I yield to thee, O Love, thou art the stronger, Raise then thy siege and trouble me no longer! XXVIII What cruel star or fate had domination When I was born, that thus my love is crossed? Or from what planet had I derivation That thus my life in seas of woe is crossed? Doth any live that ever had such hap That all their actions are of none effect, Whom fortune never dandled in her lap But as an abject still doth me reject? Ah tickle dame! and yet thou constant art My daily grief and anguish to increase, And to augment the troubles of my heart Thou of these bonds wilt never me release; So that thy darlings me to be may know The true idea of all worldly woe XXIX Some in their hearts their mistress' colours bears; Some hath her gloves, some other hath her garters, Some in a bracelet wears her golden hairs, And some with kisses seal their loving charters But I which never favour reaped yet, Nor had one pleasant look from her fair brow, Content myself in silent shade to sit In hope at length my cares to overplow Meanwhile mine eyes shall feed on her fair face, My sighs shall tell to her my sad designs, My painful pen shall ever sue for grace To help my heart, which languishing now pines; And I will triumph still amidst my woe Till mercy shall my sorrows overflow XXX The raging sea within his limits lies And with an ebb his flowing doth discharge; The rivers when beyond their bounds they rise, Themselves do empty in the ocean large; But my love's sea which never limit keepeth, Which never ebbs but always ever floweth, In liquid salt unto my Chloris weepeth, Yet frustrate are the tears which he bestoweth This sea which first was but a little spring Is now so great and far beyond all reason, That it a deluge to my thoughts doth bring, Which overwhelmed hath my joying season So hard and dry is my saint's cruel mind, These waves no way in her to sink can find XXXI These waves no way in her to sink can find To penetrate the pith of contemplation; These tears cannot dissolve her hardened mind, Nor move her heart on me to take compassion; O then, poor Corin, scorned and quite despised, Loathe now to live since life procures thy woe; Enough, thou hast thy heart anatomised, For her sweet sake which will no pity show; But as cold winter's storms and nipping frost Can never change sweet Aramanthus' hue, So though my love and life by her are crossed My heart shall still be constant firm and true Although Erynnis hinders Hymen's rites, My fixed faith against oblivion fights XXXII My fixed faith against oblivion fights, And I cannot forget her, pretty elf, Although she cruel be unto my plights; Yet let me rather clean forget myself, Then her sweet name out of my mind should go, Which is th' elixir of my pining soul, From whence the essence of my life doth flow, Whose beauty rare my senses all control; Themselves most happy evermore accounting, That such a nymph is queen of their affection, With ravished rage they to the skies are mounting, Esteeming not their thraldom nor subjection; But still do joy amidst their misery, With patience bearing love's captivity XXXIII With patience bearing love's captivity, Themselves unguilty of his wrath alleging; These homely lines, abjects of poesy, For liberty and for their ransom pledging, And being free they solemnly do vow, Under his banner ever arms to bear Against those rebels which do disallow That love of bliss should be the sovereign heir; And Chloris if these weeping truce-men may One spark of pity from thine eyes obtain, In recompense of their sad heavy lay, Poor Corin shall thy faithful friend remain; And what I say I ever will approve, No joy may be compared to thy love! XXXIV The bird of Thrace which
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