Sonnet XIII. I know, within my mouth, for bashful fear

Richard Linche (fl. 1596–1601)

I KNOW, within my mouth, for bashful fear

and dread of your disdain, my words will die!

I know, I shall be stricken dumb, my Dear!

with doubt of your unpitiful reply.

I know, when as I shall before you lie

prostrate and humble, craving help of you;

Misty aspects will cloud your sun-bright eye,

and scornful looks o’ershade your beauty’s hue.

I know, when I shall plead my love so true,

so stainless, constant, loyal, and upright;

My truthful pleadings will not cause you rue

The ne’er-heard state of my distressèd plight.

I know, when I shall come with face bedight

with streaming tears, fallen from my fountain eyes,