Seccombe and Arber, comps. Elizabethan Sonnets. 1904.
Parthenophil and ParthenopheSonnet XXX. So this continual fountain of my Tears
Barnabe Barnes (1569?1609)S
From that hard rock of her sweet beauty trickling;
So shall my Tongue on her love’s music tickling;
So shall my Passions, fed with hopes and fears;
So shall mine Heart, which wearing, never wears,
But soft, is hardened with her beauty’s prickling;
On which; Despair, my vulture seized, stands pickling
Yet never thence his maw full gorgèd bears;
Right so, my Tears, Tongue, Passions, Heart, Despair;
With floods, complaints, sighs, throbs, and endless sorrow;
In seas, in volumes, winds, earthquakes, and hell;
Shall float, chant, breathe, break, and dark mansion borrow!
And, in them, I be blessed for my Fair;
That in these torments, for her sake I dwell.