Five Sonnets

Unquiet thought, whom at the first I bred
     Of th'inward bale of my love pined hart:
     and sithens have with sighes and sorrowes fed,
     till greater then my wombe thou woxen art:
Breake forth at length out of the inner part,
     in which thou lurkest lyke to vipers brood:
     and seeke some succour both to ease my smart
     and also to sustayne thy selfe with food.
But if in presence of that fayrest proud
     thou chance to come, fall lowly at her feet:
     and with meeke humblesse and afflicted mood,
     pardon for thee, and grace for me intreat.
Which if she graunt, then live and my love cherish,
     if not, die soone, and I with thee will perish.

New yeare forth looking out of Janus gate,
     Doth seeme to promise hope of new delight:
     and bidding th'old Adieu, his passed date
     bids all old thoughts to die in dumpish spright.
And calling forth out of sad Winters night,
     fresh love, that long hath slept in cheerlesse bower:
     wils him awake, and soone about him dight
     his wanton wings and darts of deadly power.
For lusty spring now in his timely howre,
     is ready to come forth him to receive:
     and warnes the Earth with the divers colord flowre
     to decke hir selfe, and her faire mantle weave.
Then you faire flowre, in whome fresh youth doth raine,
     prepare your selfe new love to entertaine.

Be nought dismayd that her unmoved mind
     doth still persist in her rebellious pride:
     such love, not lyke to lusts of baser kynd,
     the harder wonne, the firmer will abide.
The durefull Oake, whose sap in not yet dride,
     is long ere it conceive the kindling fyre:
     but when it once doth burne, it doth divide
     great heat, and makes his flames to heaven aspire.
So hard it is to kindle new desire
     in gentle brest that shall endure for ever:
     deepe is the wound, that dints the parts entire
     with chast affects, that naught but death can sever.
Then thinke not long in taking litle paine,
     to knit the knot, that ever shall remiane.

Shall I then silent be or shall I speake?
And if I speake, her wrath renew I shall:
and if I silent be, my hart will breake,
or choked be with ouerflowing gall.
What tyranny is this both my hart to thrall,
and eke my toung with proud restraint to tie?
that nether I may speake nor thinke at all,
but like a stupid stock in silence die.
Yet I my hart with silence secretly
will teach to speak, and my iust cause to plead:
and eke mine eies with meeke humility,
loue learned letters to her eyes to read.
Which her deep wit, that true harts thought can spel,
wil soone conceiue, and learne to construe well.

Most glorious Lord of life, that on this day,
Didst make thy triumph over death and sin:
And having harrow'd hell, didst bring away
Captivity thence captive, us to win:
This joyous day, dear Lord, with joy begin,
And grant that we for whom thou diddest die,
Being with thy dear blood clean wash'd from sin,
May live for ever in felicity.
And that thy love we weighing worthily,
May likewise love thee for the same again:
And for thy sake, that all like dear didst buy,
With love may one another entertain.
So let us love, dear love, like as we ought,
Love is the lesson which the Lord us taught.