Esther M. Zimmer Lederberg
Richard Linche: 1548-1601, Sonnet IX
BLOT not thy beauty (Fairest, yet unkind!)
with cruel usage of a yielding heart!
The stoutest Captain scorns such bloody mind:
then mingle mercy, where thou causedst smart!
Let him not die, in his May-springing days!
that living, vows to honour thee for ever.
Shine forth some pity from thy sun-like rays!
that hard-frozed hate may so dissolve and sever!
O were thou not much harder than a flint,
thou hadst ere this, been melted into love!
In firmest stone, small rain doth make a print:
but seas of tears cannot thy hardness move!
Then, wretched I, must die before my time!
Blasted and spoilèd in my budding prime.
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