Laura. The Toyes of a Traveller. Or. The Feast of Fancie - Part 1, 20
What time with brow the Loveliest gins to scowle,
Shewing disdaine and furie in her face;
Mee thinkes I see the clowdes wex darke and fowle,
And gloomie night begins to run his race.
But then againe, when she to show begins
Her smiling chere adornd with favour rare,
Straight waies the Sunne in chariot bright forth springs,
Clere are the skies, the gladsome day most faire:
Thus in one face I see against my will,
The rising of the Sunne and falling still.
Shewing disdaine and furie in her face;
Mee thinkes I see the clowdes wex darke and fowle,
And gloomie night begins to run his race.
But then againe, when she to show begins
Her smiling chere adornd with favour rare,
Straight waies the Sunne in chariot bright forth springs,
Clere are the skies, the gladsome day most faire:
Thus in one face I see against my will,
The rising of the Sunne and falling still.
Translation:
Language:
Reviews
No reviews yet.