Sonnet LIII. Why do I draw my breath, vain sighs to feed

Barnabe Barnes (1569?–1609)

WHY do I draw my breath, vain sighs to feed;

Since all my sighs be breathed out in vain?

Why be these eyes the conduits, whence proceed

These ceaseless tears, which, for your sake! do rain?

Why do I write my woes! and writing, grieve

To think upon them, and their sweet contriver;

Begging some comfort, which might me relieve,

When the remembrance is my cares’ reviver?

Why do I sue to kiss; and kiss, to love;

And love, to be tormented; not beloved?

Can neither sighs, nor tears, my sorrows move

By lines, or words? nor will they be removed?

Then tire not, Tyrant! but on mine heart tire!

That unconsumed, I burn, in my Desire.