The Delia Sonnets

by Samuel Daniel


Reignin my thoughts, fair hand, sweet eye, rare voice!
  Possess me whole, my heart's triumvirate!
  Yet heavy heart, to make so hard a choice
  Of such as spoil thy poor afflicted state!
For whilst they strive which shall be lord of all,
  All my poor life by them is trodden down;
  They all erect their trophies on my fall,
  And yield me nought that gives them their renown.
When back I look, I sigh my freedom past,
  And wail the state wherein I present stand,
  And see my fortune ever like to last,
  Finding me reined with such a heavy hand.
What can I do but yield? and yield I do;
And serve all three, and yet they spoil me too!

Next: Sonnet XXVIII

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