Seccombe and Arber, comps. Elizabethan Sonnets. 1904.
Sonnets after Astrophel, etc.Sonnet XVII. Whilst by her eyes pursued, my poor heart flew it
Samuel Daniel (1562–1619)W
Into the sacred bosom of my Dearest;
She there, in that sweet sanctuary, slew it,
When it had hoped his safety to be nearest.
My faith of privilege could no whit protect it;
That was with blood, and three years’ witness signed:
Whereby she had no cause once to suspect it,
For well she saw my love, and how I pined.
Yet no hope’s letter would her brow reveal me,
No comfort’s hue which falling spirits erecteth;
What boots to laws of succour to appeal me?
Ladies and tyrants never laws respecteth.
Then there I die, where I had hope to liven;
And by her hand that better might have given.