Seccombe and Arber, comps. Elizabethan Sonnets. 1904.
Parthenophil and ParthenopheSonnet LXXXVIII. Within thine eyes, mine heart takes all his rest!
Barnabe Barnes (1569?–1609)W
In which, still sleeping, all my sense is drowned.
The dreams, with which my senses are opprest,
Be thousand lovely fancies turning round
The restless wheel of my much busy brain.
The morning; which from resting doth awake me,
Thy beauty! banished from my sight again,
When I to long melancholy betake me.
Then full of errors, all my dreams I find!
And in their kinds contrarious, till the day
(Which is her beauty) set on work my mind;
Which never will cease labour! never stay!
And thus my pleasures are but dreams with me;
Whilst mine hot fevers, pains quotidian be.