Читать книгу The Golden Treasury - Various - Страница 39

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I saw my Lady weep,

And Sorrow proud to be advancéd so

In those fair eyes where all perfections keep,

Her face was full of woe,

But such a woe (believe me) as wins more hearts

Than Mirth can do with her enticing parts.

Sorrow was there made fair,

And Passion, wise; Tears, a delightful thing;

Silence, beyond all speech, a wisdom rare:

She made her sighs to sing,

And all things with so sweet a sadness move

As made my heart at once both grieve and love.

O fairer than aught else

The world can show, leave off in time to grieve!

Enough, enough: your joyful look excels:

Tears kill the heart, believe.

O strive not to be excellent in woe,

Which only breeds your beauty's overthrow.

Anon.