Seccombe and Arber, comps. Elizabethan Sonnets. 1904.
DiellaSonnet XXV. Rough storms have calms, lopt boughs do grow again
Richard Linche (fl. 15961601)R
the naked Winter is reclothed by Spring;
No year so dry but there doth fall some rain:
Nature is kind, save me, to everything.
Only my griefs do never end nor cease!
no ebb doth follow my still-flowing tears!
My sighs are storms, which never can appease
their furious blasts, procured by endless cares!
Then Sighs and Sobs tell T
go fly to T
So tell I
his pains are sports, imposèd with some measure!”
Bid them be patient! bid them look on me,
And they shall see the Map of Misery.