Verse > Anthologies > Elizabethan Sonnets > Licia
Seccombe and Arber, comps.  Elizabethan Sonnets.  1904.
Sonnet XXXII. I wrote my sighs, and sent them to my Love
Giles Fletcher (1586?–1623)
I WROTE my sighs, and sent them to my Love.
I praised that Fair, that none enough could praise:
But plaints, nor praises, could fair LICIA move.
Above my reach, she did her virtues raise.
  And thus replied, “False scrawl, untrue thou art!        5
To feign those sighs that nowhere can be found.
For half those praises came not from his heart;
Whose faith and love, as yet, was never found.
  “Thy master’s life, false scrawl, shall be thy doom!
Because he burns, I judge thee to the flame!        10
Both your attempts deserve no better room.”
Thus, at her word, we ashes both became.
  Believe me, Fair, and let my paper live!
  Or be not fair, and so me freedom give.

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