Seccombe and Arber, comps. Elizabethan Sonnets. 1904.
Laura—Part IIIXXX. Unbare that ivory Hand! Hide it no more!
Robert Tofte (1561–1620)U
For though it death brings to my tender heart
To see it naked, where is Beauty’s store;
And where moist pearl with azure doth impart:
Yet fear I not to die, in this sweet wise!
My fancy, so to see ’t, is set on fire.
Then leave that glove! (most hateful to mine eyes!)
And let me surfeit with this kind desire!
So that my looks may have of them their fill;
Though heart decay, I’ll take it for none ill.
Mantoa.