| Seccombe and Arber, comps. Elizabethan Sonnets. 1904. | | | | Fidessa | | Sonnet XXVII. Poor worm, poor silly worm, alas, poor beast! | | Bartholomew Griffin (d. 1602) |
| | | POOR worm, poor silly worm, alas, poor beast! | |
| Fear makes thee hide thy head within the ground, | |
| Because of creeping things thou art the least; | |
| Yet every foot gives thee thy mortal wound. | |
| But I, thy fellow worm, am in worse state; | 5 |
| For thou thy sun enjoyest, but I want mine! | |
| I live in irksome night, O cruel fate! | |
| My sun will never rise, nor ever shine. | |
| Thus blind of light, mine eyes misguide my feet, | |
| And baleful darkness makes me still afraid; | 10 |
| Men mock me when I stumble in the street, | |
| And wonder how my young sight so decayed. | |
| Yet do I joy in this, even when I fall, | |
| That I shall see again, and then see all! | | | | |
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