Verse > Anthologies > Elizabethan Sonnets > Diana
Seccombe and Arber, comps.  Elizabethan Sonnets.  1904.
The Eighth Decade
Sonnet III. ’Twill grieve me more than if thou didst disdain me
Henry Constable (1562–1613)
’TWILL grieve me more than if thou didst disdain me,
  That I should die; and thou, because I die so:
  And yet to die, it should not know to pain me,
  If cruel Beauty were content to bid so.
Death, to my life; life, to my long despair        5
  Prolonged by her; given to my love and days:
  Are means to tell how truly she is fair,
  And I can die to testify her praise.
Yet not to die, though Fairness me despiseth,
  Is cause why in complaint I thus persèver;        10
  Though Death me and my love imparadiseth,
  By interdicting me from her for ever.
I do not grieve that I am forced to die,
But die, to think upon the reason, “Why?”

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