Verse > Anthologies > Elizabethan Sonnets > Diella

Seccombe and Arber, comps.  Elizabethan Sonnets.  1904.
Diella by Richard Linche (fl. 1596–1601)
    Front Matter
I. When first the feathered god did strike my heart
II. Soon as the azure-coloured Gates of th’East
III. Swift-footed Time! look back! and here mark well
IV. What sugared terms, what all-persuading art
V. The little Archer viewing well my Love
VI. Mirror of Beauty! Nature’s fairest Child!
VII. When Love had first besieged my heart’s strong wall
VIII. Like to a falcon watching for a flight
IX. Blot not thy beauty (Fairest, yet unkind!)
X. When Flora vaunts her in her proud array
XI. What She can be so cruel as my Love
XII. Thou (like the fair-faced, gold-encovered book
XIII. I know, within my mouth, for bashful fear
XIII. Breathing forth sighs of most heart-breaking might
XIV. When broad-faced rivers turn unto their fountains
XV. No sooner leaves Hyperion, Thetis’ bed
XVI. But thou, my dear sweet-sounding lute, be still!
XVII. The sun-scorched seaman, when he sees the seas
XVIII. Cupid had done some heinous act or other
XIX. When Night returns back to his ugly mansion
XX. The strongest pine, that Queen Feronia hath
XXI. As winter’s rage, young plants unkindly spilleth
XXII. Look, as a bird, through sweetness of the call
XXIII. My life’s preserver! hope of my heart’s bliss!
XXIV. When leaden-hearted sleep had shut mine eyes
XXV. Rough storms have calms, lopt boughs do grow again
XXVI. The love-hurt heart, which tyrant Cupid wounds
XXVII. The heaven’s herald may not make compare
XXVIII. Weary with serving, where I naught could get
XXIX. Cease, Eyes, to cherish with still flowing tears
XXX. He that can count the candles of the sky
XXXI. Fair ivory Brow, the board Love banquets on!
XXXII. The last so sweet, so balmy, so delicious!
XXXIII. Thinking to close my over-watchèd eyes
XXXIV. Why should a Maiden’s heart be of that proof
XXXV. End this enchantment, Love! of my desires!
XXXVI. Long did I wish, before I could attain
XXXVII. Did I not love her as a lover ought
XXXVIII. Hearken awhile, Diella! to a story



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