Sonnet LIII. In clowdes she shines and so obscurely shineth

Thomas Watson (1555–1592)

IN clowdes she shines and so obscurely shineth,

That like a mastles shipe at seas I wander:

For want of her to guide my hart that pineth,

Yet can I not entreat ne yet command her.

So am I tied in Laborinths of fancy,

In darke and obscure Laborinths of loue:

That euerie one may plaine behold that can see,

How I am fetterd and what paines I proue.

The Lampe whose light should lead my ship about,

Is placed vpon my Mistres heauenlie face.

Her hand doth hold the clew must lead me out,

And free my hart from thraldomes lothed place.

But cleaue to lead me out or Lampe to light me,

She scornefullie denide, the more to spight me.