I. If I somewhile look up into the Skies

Robert Tofte (1561–1620)

IF I somewhile look up into the Skies,

I see, fair Lady, that same cheerful light;

Which, like to you, doth shine in glorious wise:

And if on th’ Earth, I chance to cast my sight;

The moveless centre firm to me doth show

The hardness which within your heart doth grow.

If Seas I view, the flowing waves most plain

Your fickle faith do represent to me.

So as I still behold you, to my pain;

When as the Skies, or th’ Earth, or Seas I see:

For in your seemly self doth plain appear

Like faith; like hardness; and like brightness clear.