Verse > Anthologies > Elizabethan Sonnets > Licia
Seccombe and Arber, comps.  Elizabethan Sonnets.  1904.
Sonnet XXX. When as her lute is tunèd to her voice
Giles Fletcher (1586?–1623)
WHEN as her lute is tunèd to her voice,
The air grows proud for honour of that sound;
And rocks do leap, to shew how they rejoice
That in the earth such music should be found.
  When as her hair (more worth, more pale, than gold)        5
Like silver thread lies wafting in the air;
DIANA-like she looks, but yet more bold:
Cruel in chase, more chaste, and yet more fair.
  When as she smiles, the cloud for envy breaks;
She JOVE in pride encounters with a check:        10
The sun doth shine for joy when as she speaks,
Thus heaven and earth do homage at her beck.
  Yet all these graces, blots; not graces, are:
  If you, my Love, of love do take no care.

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