Seccombe and Arber, comps. Elizabethan Sonnets. 1904.
The Tears of FancieSonnet XL. The common ioye, the cheere of companie
Thomas Watson (15551592)T
Twixt myrth and mone doth plague me euermore:
For pleasant talke or musicks melodie,
Yelds no such salue vnto my secret sore.
For still I liue in spight of cruell death,
And die againe in spight of lingring life:
Feede still with hope which doth prolong my breath,
But choackt with feare and strangled still with strife,
VVitnes the daies which I in dole consume,
And weary nights beare record of my woe:
O wronge full world which makst my fancie fume,
Fie fickle Fortune fie, thou art my foe.
O heauie hap so froward is my chance,
No daies nor nights nor worlds can me aduance.