Seccombe and Arber, comps. Elizabethan Sonnets. 1904.
DiellaSonnet XIX. When Night returns back to his ugly mansion
Richard Linche (fl. 15961601)W
and clear-faced Morning makes her bright uprise;
In sorrow’s depth, I murmur out his cantion
(salt tears distilling from my dewy eyes),
“O thou deceitful S
cease to afflict my over-painèd sprite
With vain illusions, and idle themes!
thy spells are false! thou canst not charm aright!
For when, in bed, I think t’embrace my Love
(enchanted by thy magic so to think),
Vain are my thoughts! ’tis empty air, I prove!
that still I wail, till watching make me wink:
And when I wink, I wish I ne’er might wake,
But sleeping, carried to the Stygian lake.”