Sonnet IX. Into the fountain, where fair Diana chaste

William Smith (fl. 1596)

INTO the fountain, where fair DIANA chaste

The proud ACTEON turnèd to a hart,

I drave my flock that water sweet to taste;

’Cause from the welkin, PHŒBUS ’gan depart.

There did I see the Nymph whom I admire,

Remembering her locks; of which the yellow hue

Made blush the beauties of her curlèd wire,

Which JOVE himself with wonder well might view.

Then red with ire, her tresses she berent;

And weeping hid the beauty of her face:

Whilst I, amazèd at her discontent,

With tears and sighs do humbly sue for grace.

But she, regarding neither tears nor moan,

Flies from the fountain, leaving me alone.