In vain. Sonnet, to me. the smileing. Mornings shine, And redning Phabus lifts his golden Fire The Birds in vain their Descant amoreus resume their joyn; green Alive. These tare, alas for other Notes repine, And in my Breast no : mine; Heart, but I fruitless And weep the because I more FACSIMILE OF SONNET TO RICHARD WEST. |