Verse > Anthologies > Elizabethan Sonnets > Chloris
Seccombe and Arber, comps.  Elizabethan Sonnets.  1904.
Sonnet XII. Cease eyes to weep, sith none bemoans your weeping!
William Smith (fl. 1596)
CEASE eyes to weep, sith none bemoans your weeping!
Leave off, good Muse, to sound the cruel name
Of my love’s Queen! which hath my heart in keeping;
Yet of my love doth make a jesting game.
  Long hath my sufferance laboured to enforce        5
One pearl of pity from her pretty eyes;
Whilst I, with restless oceans of remorse,
Bedew the banks where my fair CHLORIS lies,
  Where my fair CHLORIS bathes her tender skin;
And doth triumph to see such rivers fall        10
From those moist springs, which never dry have been
Since she their honour hath detained in thrall.
  And still she scorns one favouring smile to show
  Unto those waves proceeding from my woe.

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