Verse > Anthologies > Elizabethan Sonnets > Diella
Seccombe and Arber, comps.  Elizabethan Sonnets.  1904.
Sonnet XXVIII. Weary with serving, where I naught could get
Richard Linche (fl. 1596–1601)
WEARY with serving, where I naught could get;
  I thought to cross great NEPTUNE’s greatest seas,
To live in exile: but my drift was let
  by cruel Fortune, spiteful of such ease.
The ship I had to pass in, was my Mind;        5
  greedy Desire was topsail of the same,
My Tears were surges, Sighs did serve for wind,
  of all my ship, Despair was chiefest frame;
Sorrow was Master, Care, the cable rope;
  Grief was the mainmast, Love, the captain of it;        10
He that did rule the helm was foolish Hope,
  but Beauty was the rock that my ship split,
Which since hath made such shipwreck of my Joy,
That still I swim in th’ ocean of Annoy.

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