III. The Fire to see my wrongs, for anger burneth

Sir Philip Sidney (1554–1586)

To the tune of Non credo gia che piu infelice amante

THE FIRE to see my wrongs, for anger burneth;

The Air in rain, for my affliction weepeth;

The Sea to ebb, for grief, his flowing turneth;

The Earth with pity dull, the centre keepeth:

Fame is with wonder blazed;

Time runs away for sorrow;

Peace standeth still, amazed,

To see my night of evils, which hath no morrow.

Alas, a lovely She no pity taketh,

To know my miseries; but, chaste and cruel,

My fall her glory maketh:

Yet still her eyes give to my flames, their fuel.

Fire, burn me quite, till sense of burning leave me!

Air, let me draw no more thy breath in anguish!

Sea, drowned in thee, of tedious life bereave me!

Earth, take this earth, wherein my spirits languish!

Fame, say I was not born!

Time, haste my dying hour!

Place, see my grave uptorn!

Fire air, sea, earth, fame, time, place show your power!

Alas, from all their help, I am exiled:

For hers am I, and death fears her displeasure.

Fie, death! thou art beguiled!

Though I be hers, she makes of me no treasure.