Verse > Anthologies > Elizabethan Sonnets > Laura
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Seccombe and Arber, comps.  Elizabethan Sonnets.  1904.
 
Laura—Part I.
XXI. Rankle the wound did in my head apace
Robert Tofte (1561–1620)
 
RANKLE the wound did in my head apace;
When fairest She, to play the Surgeon came:
And whilst her snow-white hand did me the grace
To lay the plaster on, which healed the same,
  A wonder strange! No sooner did she touch        5
  The hurt; but it appeared to be none such.
Yet, woe is me, no sooner by that hand
Was healed in head my outward fest’ring wound;
But that instead of that, as countermand,
One mortal scar at inward heart I found.        10
  Thus, LOVE! thou seest is changèd my estate
  She checks with Death, that ’fore gave Life for mate.
Venice.    
 
 
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