Sonnet VIII. O what a life is it that Louers ioy

Thomas Watson (1555–1592)

O WHAT a life is it that Louers ioy,

VVherein both paine and pleasure shrouded is:

Both heauenly pleasures and eke hells annoy,

Hells fowle annoyance and eke heauenly blisse.

VVherein vaine hope doth feede the Louers hart,

And brittle ioy sustaine a pining thought:

VVhen blacke dispaire renewes a Louers smart,

And quite extirps what first content had wrought,

VVhere faire resemblance eke the mind allureth,

To wanton lewd lust giuing pleasure scope:

And late repentance endles paines procureth,

But none of these afflict me saue vaine hope.

And sad dispaire, dispaire and hope perplexing,

Vaine hope my hart, dispaire my fancie vexing.

[Two leaves containing eight sonnets (IX.–XVI.) are missing from the only knomn copy of this volume.]

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