| Seccombe and Arber, comps. Elizabethan Sonnets. 1904. | | | | Chloris | | Sonnet XLVII. But of thy heart too cruel I thee tell | | William Smith (fl. 1596) |
| | | BUT of thy heart too cruel I thee tell, | |
| Which hath tormented my young budding age; | |
| And doth, (unless your mildness, passions quell) | |
| My utter ruin near at hand presage. | |
| Instead of blood, which wont was to display | 5 |
| His ruddy red upon my hairless face; | |
| By over-grieving, that is fled away: | |
| Pale dying colour there hath taken place. | |
| Those curlèd locks, which thou wast wont to twist, | |
| Unkempt, unshorn, and out of order been; | 10 |
| Since my disgrace, I had of them no list, | |
| Since when, these eyes no joyful day have seen: | |
| Nor never shall, till you renew again | |
| The mutual love which did possess us twain. | | | | |
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