Esther M. Zimmer Lederberg
Thomas Watson Hekatompathia 1592: Sonnet V
If't bee not loue I feele, what is it then?
If loue it bee, what kind a thing is loue?
If good, how chance he hurtes so many men?
If badd, how happ's that none his hurtes disproue?
If willingly I burne, how chance I waile?
If gainst my will, what sorrow will auaile?
O liuesome death, O sweete and pleasant ill,
Against my minde how can thy might preuail?
If I bend backe, and but refraine my will,
If I consent, I doe not well to waile;
{And touching him, whome will hath made a slaue,
The Prouerbe sayith of olde, Self do, self have.}
Thus being tost with windes of sundry sorte
Through daung'rous Seas but in a slender Boat,
With errour stuft, and driu'n beside the porte,
Where voide of wisdomes fraight it lies afloate.
I wave in doubt what help I shall require,
In Sommmer freeze, in winter burne like fire.