Sonnet XLIII. Are those two stars, her eyes, my life’s light, gone?

Giles Fletcher (1586?–1623)

ARE those two stars, her eyes, my life’s light, gone?

By which my soul was freeèd from all dark:

And am I left distressed to live alone,

Where none my tears and mournful tale shall mark?

Ah, Sun! why shine thy looks, thy looks like gold;

When, horseman brave, thou risest in the East?

Ah, CYNTHIA pale, to whom my griefs I told!

Why do you both rejoice both man and beast?

And I alone, alone that dark possess

By LICIA’s absence, brighter than the Sun:

Whose smiling light did ease my sad distress,

And broke the clouds when tears like rain begun.

Heavens grant that light, and so me waking keep:

Or shut my eyes, and rock me fast asleep!