Sonnet XLIX. If that I die, fair Licia, with disdain

Giles Fletcher (1586?–1623)

IF that I die, fair LICIA, with disdain;

Or heartless live, surprisèd with thy wrong:

The heavens and earth shall accent both my pain,

And curse the time so cruel and so long.

If you be kind, my Queen, as you are fair;

And aid my thoughts that still for conquest strive:

Then will I sing, and never more despair,

And praise your kindness whilst I am alive.

Till then I pay the tribute of my tears,

To move thy mercy and thy constant truth.

Respect, fair Love, how these with sorrow wear

The truest heart; unless it find some ruth.

Then grace me, Sweet, and with thy favour raise me;

So shall I live, and all the World shall praise thee.