from Pamphilia to Amphilanthus: 17 by Lady Mary Wroth

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Sweet shades why doe you seeke to give delight
To mee who deeme delight in this vilde place
Butt torment, sorrow, and mine owne disgrace
To taste of joy, or your vaine pleasing sight;

Show them your pleasures who saw never night
Of greife, wher joyings fauning, smiling face
Appeers as day, wher griefe found never space
Yett for a sigh, a grone, or envies spite;

Butt O on mee a world of woes doe ly,
Or els on mee all harmes strive to rely,
And to attend like servants bound to mee,

Heat in desire, while frosts of care I prove,
Wanting my love, yett surfett doe with love
Burne, and yett freeze, better in hell to bee.

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