Verse > Anthologies > Elizabethan Sonnets > Parthenophil and Parthenophe
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Seccombe and Arber, comps.  Elizabethan Sonnets.  1904.
 
Parthenophil and Parthenophe
Ode 18. O that I could make her, whom I love best
Barnabe Barnes (1569?–1609)
 
O THAT I could make her, whom I love best,
Find in a face, with misery wrinkled;
Find in a heart, with sighs over ill-pined,
    Her cruel hatred!
O that I could make her, whom I love best,        5
Find by my tears, what malady vexeth;
Find by my throbs, how forcibly love’s dart,
    Wounds my decayed heart!
O that I could make her, whom I love best,
Tell with a sweet smile, that she respecteth        10
All my lamentings; and that, in her heart,
    Mournfully she rues!
For my deserts were worthy the favours
Of such a fair Nymph, might she be fairer!
O then a firm faith, what may be richer?        15
    Then to my love yield!
Then will I leave these tears to the waste rocks!
Then will I leave these sighs to the rough winds!
O that I could make her, whom I love best,
    Pity my long smart!        20
 
 
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