Seccombe and Arber, comps. Elizabethan Sonnets. 1904.
Laura—Part II. Fortune, cross-friend to ever-conquering Love
Robert Tofte (1561–1620)F
Our bodies, Lady, hath divided far;
But yet our constant minds she cannot move,
Which over-strong for her devices are.
Woe’s me! in England thou dost bide, and I,
Scarce shadow of my self, in Italy.
But let her do her worst, and what is frail
And mortal seek to separate and undo;
Yet what immortal is, she never shall!
A string too high for her to reach unto.
In spite of envious seeds, by malice sown,
My heart shall aye be thine; and mine, thine own!
Padoa.