[ Downloads ]   [ Home ]



R O B E R T   I O N E S



18. Since first disdaine began to rise.

       Since first disdaine beganne to rise
       And crye reuenge for spightfull wrong
       What erst I praisde I now despise,
       And thinke my loue was too too long.
             I treade in durt that scornefull pride,
             Which in thy lookes I haue discride
             Thy beautie is a painted skinne
             For fools to see their faces in.

       Thine eyes that some as stars esteeme,
       From whence themselues, they say take light,
       Like to the foolish fire I deeme,
       That leades men to their death by night.
             Thy words and oathes as light as wind,
             And yet far lighter is thy mind:
             Thy friendship is a broken reed:
             That fales thy friends in greatest need.


Online text copyright ©, Harald Lillmeyer