Sonnet XXII. O fairest Fair, to thee I make my plaint

William Smith (fl. 1596)

O FAIREST Fair, to thee I make my plaint,my plaint

To thee from whom my cause of grief doth spring:doth spring.

Attentive be unto the groans, sweet Saint!sweet Saint!

Which unto thee in doleful tunes I sing.I sing.

My mournful Muse doth always speak of thee.of thee.

My love is pure, O do not it disdain!disdain!

With bitter sorrow still oppress not me;not me;

But mildly look upon me which complain.which complain.

Kill not my true-affecting thoughts; but givebut give

Such precious balm of comfort to my heart,my heart,

That casting off despair, in hope to live,hope to live,

I may find help at length to ease my smart.to ease my smart.

So shall you add such courage to my love,my love,

That fortune false, my faith shall not remove.shall not remove.