Sonnet XLI. Fair Shepherdess, when as these rustic lines

William Smith (fl. 1596)

FAIR Shepherdess, when as these rustic lines

Come to thy sight, weigh but with what affection

Thy servile doth depaint his sad designs;

Which to redress, of thee he makes election.

If so you scorn, you kill; if you seem coy,

You wound poor CORIN to the very heart;

If that you smile, you shall increase his joy;

If these you like, you banish do all smart:

And this I do protest, most fairest Fair,

My Muse shall never cease that hill to climb,

To which the learned Muses do repair!

And all to deify thy name in rhyme.

And never none shall write with truer mind

As by all proof and trial you shall find.