The Fourth Decade. Sonnet VIII. “Why thus unjustly,” say, my cruel fate!

Henry Constable (1562–1613)

“WHY thus unjustly,” say, my cruel fate!

“Dost thou adjudge my luckless eyes and heart;

The one to live exiled from that sweet smart,

Where th’other pines, imprisoned without date?”

My luckless eyes must never more debate

Of those bright beams, that eased my love apart:

And yet my heart, bound to them with love’s dart.

Must there dwell ever, to bemoan my state.

O had mine eyes been suffered there to rest!

Often they had my heart’s unquiet eased:

Or had my heart with banishment been blest!

Mine eye with beauty never had been pleased.

But since these cross effects hath fortune wrought;

Dwell, heart, with her! Eyes, view her in my thought!