Rosader's Sonnet
Two sunnes at once from one fair heaven there shinde,
Ten branches from two boughes tipt all with roses,
Pure lockes more golden than is golde refinde,
Two pearled rowes that Natures pride incloses.
Two mounts faire marble white, down-soft and dainty
A snow died orbe: where love increast by pleasure
Full wofull makes my heart, and body faintie:
Hir faire (my woe) exceeds all thought and measure.
In lines confusde my lucklesse harme appeareth,
Whom sorrow cloudes, whom pleasant smiling cleareth.
Ten branches from two boughes tipt all with roses,
Pure lockes more golden than is golde refinde,
Two pearled rowes that Natures pride incloses.
Two mounts faire marble white, down-soft and dainty
A snow died orbe: where love increast by pleasure
Full wofull makes my heart, and body faintie:
Hir faire (my woe) exceeds all thought and measure.
In lines confusde my lucklesse harme appeareth,
Whom sorrow cloudes, whom pleasant smiling cleareth.
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