Sonnet X. When Flora vaunts her in her proud array

Richard Linche (fl. 1596–1601)

WHEN FLORA vaunts her in her proud array,

clothing fair TELLUS in a spangled gown;

When BOREAS’ fury is exiled away,

and all the welkin cleared from angry frown:

At that same time, all Nature’s children joy;

trees leave, flowers bud, plants spring, and beasts increase.

Only my soul, surcharged with deep annoy,

cannot rejoice, nor sighs nor tears can cease:

Only the grafts of sorrow seem to grow;

set in my heart, no other spring I find.

Delights and pleasures are o’ergrown with woe,

laments and sobs possess my weeping mind.

The frost of grief so nips Delight at root:

No sun but She can do it any boot.