Seccombe and Arber, comps. Elizabethan Sonnets. 1904.
ChlorisSonnet XLII. Die, die my Hopes! for you do but augment
William Smith (fl. 1596)D
The burning accents of my deep despair;
Disdain and scorn, your downfall do consent:
Tell to the World, She is unkind, yet fair.
O Eyes, close up those ever-running fountains!
For pitiless are all the tears you shed;
Wherewith you watered have both dales and mountains.
I see, I see remorse from her is fled.
Pack hence, ye Sighs, into the empty air!
Into the air that none your sound may hear.
Sith cruel C
(Although she once esteemèd you full dear);
Let sable night all your disgraces cover!
Yet truer sighs were never sighed by lover.