Verse > Anthologies > Elizabethan Sonnets > Licia
Seccombe and Arber, comps.  Elizabethan Sonnets.  1904.
Sonnet XXI. Licia, my Love, was sitting in a grove
Giles Fletcher (1586?–1623)
LICIA, my Love, was sitting in a grove;
Tuning her smiles unto the chirping songs:
But straight she spied where two together strove,
Each one complaining of the other’s wrongs.
  CUPID did cry, lamenting of the harm,        5
“JOVE’s Messenger, thou wrong’st me too too far!
Use thou thy rod! rely upon thy charm!
Think not by speech, my force thou can’st debar!”
  “A rod, sir boy, were fitter for a child!
My weapons oft, and tongue, and mind you took:        10
And in my wrong, at my distress thou smiled;
And scorn to grace me with a loving look.”
  Speak you, Sweet Love, for you did all the wrong!
  That broke his arrows, and did bind his tongue.

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