Sonnet CI. Had I been banished from the native soil

Barnabe Barnes (1569?–1609)

HAD I been banished from the native soil,

Where, with my life, I first receivèd light!

For my first cradles, had my tomb been dight!

Or changed my pleasure for a ceaseless toil!

Had I for nurse, been left to lion’s spoil!

Had I for freedom, dwelt in shady night,

Cooped up in loathsome dungeons from men’s sight!

These first desires, which in my breast did boil,

From which, thy loves (Unkind!) thou banishèd!

Had not been such an exile to my bliss.

If life, with my love’s infancy, were vanishèd;

It had not been so sore a death as this,

If lionesses were, instead of nurses;

Or night, for day! Thine hate deserves more curses!