Elegy II. O that, some time, thou saw mine endless fits

Barnabe Barnes (1569?–1609)

O THAT, some time, thou saw mine endless fits;

When I have somewhat of thy beauty pondered!

Thou could not be persuaded that my wits

Could once retire so far from Sense asundered!

Furies, themselves, have at my Passions wondered!

Yet thou, PARTHENOPHE! well pleasèd, sits,

Whilst in me, so thy moisture’s heat hath thundered,

And thine eyes’ darts, at every Colon, hits

My soul with double pricks, which mine heart splits:

Whose fainting breath, with sighing Commas broken,

Draws on the sentence of my death, by pauses;

Ever prolonging out mine endless clauses

With “Ifs” Parenthesis, yet find no token

When with my grief, I should stand even or odd.

My life still making preparations,

Through thy love’s darts, to bear the Period;

Yet stumbleth on Interrogations!

These are those scholar-like vexations

Which grieve me, when those studies I apply.

I miss my lesson still! but, with love’s rod,

For each small accent sounded but awry,

Am I tormented! Yet, I cannot die!