The Delia Sonnets

by Samuel Daniel


Those snary locks are those same nets, my dear,
  Wherewith my liberty thou didst surprise
  Love was the flame that fir├Ęd me so near,
  The dart transpiercing were those crystal eyes.
Strong is the net, and fervent is the flame;
  Deep is the wound my sighs can well report.
  Yet I do love, adore, and praise the same,
  That holds, that burns, that wounds in this sort;
And list not seek to break, to quench, to heal,
  The bond, the flame, the wound that festereth so,
  By knife, by liquor, or by salve to deal;
  So much I please to perish in my woe.
Yet lest long travails be above my strength,
Good Delia, loose, quench, heal me, now at length!

Next: Sonnet XV

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