Seccombe and Arber, comps. Elizabethan Sonnets. 1904.
Parthenophil and ParthenopheMadrigal 12. Like to the Mountains, are mine high desires
Barnabe Barnes (1569?1609)L
Level to thy love’s highest point:
Grounded on faith, which thy sweet grace requires.
For Springs, tears rise in endless source.
For Summer’s flowers, Love’s fancies I appoint.
The Trees, with storms tossed out of course,
Figure my thoughts, still blasted with Despair.
Thunder, lightning, and hail
Make his trees mourn: thy frowns make me bewail!
This only difference! Here, fire; there, snows are!