The Delia Sonnets

by Samuel Daniel


My Delia hath the waters of mine eyes,
  The ready handmaids on her grace t'attend,
  That never fail to ebb, but ever rise;
  For to their flow she never grants an end.
The ocean never did attend more duly
  Upon his sovereign's course, the night's pale queen,
  Nor paid the impost of his waves more truly,
  Than mine unto her cruelty hath been.
Yet nought the rock of that hard heart can move,
  Where beat these tears with zeal, and fury drives;
  And yet, I'd rather languish in her love,
  Than I would joy the fairest she that lives.
And if I find such pleasure to complain,
What should I do then if I should obtain?

Next: Sonnet XLVI

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