Seccombe and Arber, comps. Elizabethan Sonnets. 1904.
Laura—Part IIIXXVII. “Love this fair Lass!” said Love once unto me
Robert Tofte (1561–1620)“L
I loved her. “Love her now,” saith he, “no more!”
When thousand darts within my breast there be;
And if I love her, he me threateneth sore.
He saith, “Himself is fallen in love with her;
And that himself, ’fore others, he’ll prefer!”
His sense is this. He, in her beauteous eyes,
Hath found such Amours as ne’er like were seen:
But thinks he, this shall serve, in cunning wise,
To make me leave? he cozening me so clean?
In spite of him, I’ll love! sith heart doth ’gree,
With L