Verse > Anthologies > Elizabethan Sonnets > Diana
Seccombe and Arber, comps.  Elizabethan Sonnets.  1904.
The Second Decade
Sonnet VIII. The fowler hides, as closely as he may
Henry Constable (1562–1613)
THE FOWLER hides, as closely as he may,
  The net, where caught the silly bird should be;
  Lest he the threatening poison should but see,
  And so for fear be forced to fly away.
My Lady so, the while she doth assay        5
  In curled knots fast to entangle me;
  Put on her veil, to th’end I should not flee
  The golden net, wherein I am a prey.
Alas, most Sweet! what need is of a net
  To catch a bird, that is already ta’en?        10
  Sith with your hand alone, you may it get;
  For it desires to fly into the same.
What needs such art, my thoughts then to entrap;
When, of themselves, they fly into your lap?

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