Verse > Anthologies > Elizabethan Sonnets > Chloris
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Seccombe and Arber, comps.  Elizabethan Sonnets.  1904.
 
Chloris by William Smith (fl. 1596)
 
    To the most excellent and learned Shepherd Colin Clout
    To all Shepherds in general
I. Courteous Calliope, vouchsafe to lend
II. Thy beauty, subject of my Song I make
III. Feed, silly sheep! although your keeper pineth
IV. Whole showers of Tears to Chloris I will pour
V. You Fauns and Silvans, when my Chloris brings
VI. You lofty Pines, co-partners of my woe
VII. What need I mourn? seeing Pan, our sacred King
VIII. No sooner had fair Phœbus trimmed his car
IX. Into the fountain, where fair Diana chaste
X. Am I a Gorgon? that she doth me fly!
XI. Tell me, my dear, what moves thy ruthless mind
XII. Cease eyes to weep, sith none bemoans your weeping!
XIII. What time fair Titan in the zenith sat
XIV. Mournful Amyntas, thou didst pine with care
XV. These weeping Truce-men shew I living languish
XVI. Which I pour forth unto a cruel Saint
XVII. The perils which Leander took in hand
XVIII. My Love, I cannot thy rare beauties place
XIX. The Hound, by eating grass, doth find relief
XX. Ye wasteful woods, bear witness of my woe!
XXI. “Being likewise scorned in love as well as I
XXII. O fairest Fair, to thee I make my plaint
XXIII. The Phœnix fair which rich Arabia breeds
XXIV. Though they augmentors of my thraldom be
XXV. Who doth not know that Love is triumphant
XXVI. Though you be fair and beautiful withal
XXVII. O Love, leave off with sorrows to torment me!
XXVIII. What cruel star, or fate, had dominion
XXIX. Some in their hearts, their Mistress’s colours bear
XXX. The raging sea, within his limits lies
XXXI. These waves no way in her to sink can find
XXXII. My fixèd faith against oblivion fights
XXXIII. With patience bearing Love’s captivity
XXXIV. The bird of Thrace, which doth bewail her rape
XXXV. Like to the shipman, in his brittle boat
XXXVI. What a wound, and what a deadly stroke
XXXVII. Each beast in field doth wish the morning light
XXXVIII. That day wherein mine eyes cannot her see
XXXIX. The stately lion and the furious bear
XL. No art nor force can unto pity move
XLI. Fair Shepherdess, when as these rustic lines
XLII. Die, die my Hopes! for you do but augment
XLIII. Thou glorious Sun (from whence my lesser light
XLIV. When I more large thy praises forth shall show
XLV. When she was born, whom I entirely love
XLVI. When Chloris first, with her heart-robbing eye
XLVII. But of thy heart too cruel I thee tell
XLVIII. You that embrace enchanting Poesy
XLIX. Colin, I know that, in thy lofty wit

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