Esther M. Zimmer Lederberg
Sir Fulke Greville, Baron Brooke 1620: Sonnet XXII
I WITH whose colors Myra drest her head,
I, that ware posies of her own hand-making,
I, that mine owne name in the chimnies read
By Myra finely wrought ere I was waking :
Must I looke on, in hope time comming may
With change bring back my turne againe to play?
I, that on Sunday at the Church-stile found,
A garland sweet with true-loue knots in flowers,
Which I to weare about mine arms was bound,
That each of vs might know that all was ours :
Must I lead now an idle life in wishes ?
And follow Cupid for his loaues and fishes ?
I, that did wear the ring her mother left,
I, for whose loue she gloried to be blamed,
I, with whose eyes her eyes committed theft,
I, who did make her blush when I was named ;
Must I lose ring, flowers, blush, theft, and go naked,
Watching with sighs till dead loue be awakèd ?
I, that when drowsie Argus fell asleep,
Like Iealousie o'rewatchèd with Desire,
Was euen warnèd modestie to keepe
While her breath speaking kindled Nature's fire :
Must I looke on a-cold, while others warme them ?
Do Vulcan's brothers in such fine nets arme them.
Was it for this that I might Myra see
Washing the water with her beauties, white ?
Yet would she neuer write her loue to me ;
Thinks wit of change while thoughts are in delight ?
Mad girles may safely loue, as they may leaue :
No man can print a kisse ; lines may deceiue.
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