Seccombe and Arber, comps. Elizabethan Sonnets. 1904.
FidessaSonnet XII. O if my heavenly sighs must prove annoy
Bartholomew Griffin (d. 1602)O
(Which are the sweetest music to my heart),
Let it suffice, I count them as my joy!
Sweet bitter joy, and pleasant painful smart!
For when my breast is clogged with thousand cares,
That my poor loaded heart is like to break;
Then every sigh doth question “How it fares?”
Seeming to add their strength, which makes me weak.
Yet, for they friendly are, I entertain them;
And they too well are pleasèd with their host.
But I, had not F
It’s for her cause they live! in her, they boast!
They promise help, but when they see her face;
They fainting, yield! and dare not sue for grace!