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Delia

by Samuel Daniel

Sonnets I - XX | Sonnets XXI - XL | Sonnets XLI - LX

XLI: When men shall find thy flower, thy glory pass,
And thou with carefull brow sitting alone,
Received hast this message from thy glass,
That tells thee truth, and says that all is gone,: Fresh shalt thou see in me the wounds thou madest;
Though spent thy flame, in me the heat remaining.
I that have lov'd thee thus before thou fadest,
My faith shall wax, when thou art in thy waning.: The world shall find this miracle in me,
That fire can burn, when all the matter's spent;
Then what my faith hath been thy self shalt see,
And that thou wast unkind thou mayst repent.: Thou mayst repent, that thou hast scorn'd my tears,; When Winter snows upon thy golden hairs.
XLII: When Winter snows upon thy golden hairs,
And frost of age hath nipt thy flowers near,
When dark shall seem thy day that never clears,
And all lies wither'd that was held so dear,: Then take this picture which I here present thee,
Limn'd with a pencil not all unworthy:
Here see the gifts that God and Nature lent thee;
Here read thy self, and what I suffer'd for thee.: This may remain thy lasting monument,
Which happily posterity may cherish;
These colors with thy fading are not spent;
These may remain, when thou and I shall perish.: If they remain, then thou shalt live thereby;; They will remain, and so thou canst not die.
XLIII: Thou canst not die whilst any zeal abound
In feeling hearts that can conceive these lines;
Though thou a Laura hast no Petrarch found,
In base attire, yet clearly Beauty shines.: And I, though born in a colder clime,
Do feel mine inward heat as great, I know it;
He never had more faith, although more rhyme;
I love as well, though he could better show it.: But I may add one feather to thy fame
To help her flight throughout the fairest isle,
And if my pen could more enlarge thy name,
Then shouldst thou live in an immortal style.: But though that Laura better limned be,; Suffice, thou shalt be lov'd as well as she.
XLIV: O be not griev'd that these my papers should
Bewray unto the world how fair thou art,
Or that my wits have show'd the best they could
The chastest flame that ever warmed heart.: Think not, sweet Delia, this shall be thy shame,
My Muse should sound thy praise with mournful warble;
How many live, the glory of whose name
Shall rest in ice when thine is grav'd in marble?: Thou mayst in after ages live esteem'd,
Unburied in these lines reserv'd in pureness;
These shall entomb those eyes that have redeem'd
Me from the vulgar, thee from all obscureness.: Although my carefull accents ne'er mov'd thee,; Yet count it no disgrace that I have lov'd thee.
XLV: Delia, these eyes that so admireth thine
Have seen those walls the which ambition rear'd
To check the world, how they entomb'd have lyen* [lain]
Within themselves, and on them plows have ear'd*. [turned soil over]: Yet for all that no barbarous hand attain'd
The spoil of fame deserv'd by virtuous men,
Whose glorious actions luckily had gain'd
Th'eternal Annals of a happier pen.: Why then, though Delia fade, let that not move her,
Though Time do spoil her of the fairest veil
That ever yet mortality did cover,
Which shall enstar the needle and the trail*. [decorative tracery stitching]: That grace, that virtue all that serv'd t'enwoman; Doth her unto eternity assummon.
XLVI: Fair and lovely maid, look from the shore,
See thy Leander striving in these waves,
Poor soul forespent, whose force can do no more:
Now send forth hopes, for now calm pity saves.: And waft him to thee with those lovely eyes,
A happy convoy to a holy land;
Now show thy power and where thy virtue lies;
To save thine own, stretch out the fairest hand.: Stretch out the fairest hand a pledge of peace,
That hand that darts so right and never misses;
I'll not revenge old wrongs; my wrath shall cease;
For that which gave me wounds, I'll give it kisses.: Once let the ocean of my cares find shore,; That thou be pleas'd, and I may sigh no more.
XLVII: Read in my face a volume of despairs,
The wailing Iliads of my tragic woe,
Drawn with my blood and printed with my cares
Wrought by her hand, that I have honor'd so.: Who, whilst I burn, she sings at my soul's wrack,
Looking aloft from turret of her pride;
There my soul's tyrant joys her in the sack
Of her own seat, whereof I made her guide.: There do these smokes that from affliction rise,
Serve as an incense to a cruel Dame;
A sacrifice thrice grateful to her eyes,
Because their power serve to exact the same.: Thus ruins she, to satisfy her will,; The Temple where her name was honor'd still.
XLVIII: My Cynthia hath the waters of mine eyes
The ready handmaids on her grace attending
That never fall to ebb, nor ever dries,
For to their flow she never grants an ending.: Th'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 to her in truth have ever been.: Yet nought the rock of that hard heart can move,
Where beat these tears with zeal, and fury driveth;
And yet I rather languish in her love
Than I would joy the fairest she that liveth.: I doubt to find such pleasure in my gaining; As now I taste in compass of complaining.
XLIX: How long shall I in mine affliction mourn,
A burden to myself, distress'd in mind?
When shall my interdicted hopes return
From out despair wherein they live confin'd?: When shall her troubled brow charg'd with disdain
Reveal the treasure which her smiles impart?
When shall my faith the happiness attain
To break the ice that hath congeal'd her heart?: Unto herself, herself my love doth summon,
If love in her hath any power to move,
And let her tell me as she is a woman
Whether my faith hath not deserv'd her love.: I know she cannot but must needs confess it,; Yet deigns not with one simple sign t'express it.
L: Beauty, sweet love, is like the morning dew
Whose short refresh upon the tender green
Cheers for a time but till the Sun doth show,
And straight 'tis gone as it had never been.: Soon doth it fade that makes the fairest flourish;
Short is the glory of the blushing Rose,
The hue which thou so carefully dost nourish
Yet which at length thou must be forc'd to lose.: When thou surcharg'd with burden of thy years
Shalt bend thy wrinkles homeward to the earth,
When Time hath made a passport for thy fears,
Dated in age the Kalends of our death--: But, ah, no more: this hath been often told,; And women grieve to think they must be old.
LI: I must not grieve my Love, whose eyes would read
Lines of delight, whereon her youth might smile;
Flowers have a time before they come to seed,
And she is young and now must sport the while.: Ah, sport, sweet Maid, in season of these years,
And learn to gather flowers before they wither;
And where the sweetest blossoms first appears,
Let love and youth conduct thy pleasures thither.: Lighten forth smiles to clear the clouded air
And calm the tempest which my sighs do raise;
Pity and smiles do best become the fair;
Pity and smiles shall yield thee lasting praise.: I hope to say, when all my griefs are gone,; Happy the heart that sigh'd for such a one.
LII: At the Author's Going into Italy; O whether (poor forsaken) wilt thou go,
To go from sorrow and thine own distress,
When every place presents the face of woe,
And no remove can make thy sorrow less?: Yet go (forsaken), leave these woods, these plains;
Leave her and all, and all for her that leaves
Thee and thy love forlorn, and both disdains,
And of both wrongful deems and ill conceives.: Seek out some place, and see if any place
Give give the least release unto thy grief,
Convey thee from the thought of thy disgrace,
Steal from thyself, and be thy cares own thief.: But yet what comfort shall I hereby gain?; Bearing the wound, I needs must feel the pain.
LIII: Drawn by th'attractive virtue of her eyes,
My touch'd heart turns it to that happy coast;
My joyful North, where all my fortune lies,
The level of my hopes desired most.: There where my Delia , fairer than the Sun,
Deckt with her youth whereon the world smileth,
Joys in that honor which her beauty won,
Th'eternal volume which her fame compileth.: Flourish, fair Albion, glory of the North,
Neptune's darling held between his arms,
Divided from the world as better worth,
Kept for himself, defended from all harms.: Still let disarmed peace deck her and thee,; And Muse-foe Mars abroad far foster'd be.
LIV: Care-charmer Sleep, son of the sable Night,
Brother to death, in silent darkness born,
Relieve my languish and restore the light,
With dark forgetting of my cares' return.: And let the day be time enough to mourn
The shipwrack of my ill-adventur'd youth;
Let waking eyes suffice to wail their scorn
Without the torment of the night's untruth.: Cease Dreams, th'imagery of our day desires,
To model forth the passions of the morrow;
Never let the rising Sun approve you liars,
To add more grief to aggravate my sorrow.: Still let me sleep, embracing clouds in vain,; And never wake to feel the day's disdain.
LV: Let others sing of Knights and Paladines
In aged accents and untimely words,
Paint shadows in imaginary lines
Which well the reach of their high wits records;: But I must sing of thee and those fair eyes;
Authentic shall my verse in time to come,
When yet th'unborn shall say, "Lo, where she lies
Whose beauty made him speak that else was dumb.": These are the Arks, the Trophies I erect
That fortify thy name against old age,
And these thy sacred virtues must protect
Against the dark and Time's consuming rage.: Though th'error of my youth they shall discover,; Suffice they show I liv'd and was thy lover.
LVI: As to the Roman that would free his land,
His error was his honor and renown
And more the fame of his mistaking hand
Than if he had the tyrant overthrown,: So, Delia, hath mine error made me known,
And deceiv'd attempt deserv'd more fame
Than if I had the victory mine own,
And thy hard heart had yielded up the same.: And so, likewise, renowned is thy blame,
Thy cruelty, thy glory; O strange case,
That errors should be grac'd that merit shame
And sin of frowns bring honor to thy face.: Yet happy, Delia, that thou wast unkind,; But happier yet, if thou wouldst change thy mind.
LVII: Like as the lute that joys or else dislikes
As in his art that plays upon the same,
So sounds my Muse according as she strikes
On my heart strings high tun'd unto her fame.: Her touch doth cause the warble of the sound
Which here I yield in lamentable wise,
A wailing descant on the sweetest ground,
Whose due reports give honor to her eyes.: Else harsh my style, untunable my Muse,
Hoarse sounds the voice that praiseth not her name;
If any pleasing relish here I use,
Then judge the world her beauty gives the same.: O happy ground that makes the music such,; And blessed hand that gives so sweet a touch.
LVIII: None other fame mine unambitious Muse
Affected ever but t'eternize thee;
All other honors do my hopes refuse,
Which meaner priz'd and momentary be.: For God forbid I should my papers blot
With mercenary lines, with servile pen,
Praising virtues in them that have them not,
Basely attending on the hopes of men.: No, no, my verse respects nor Thames nor theaters,
Nor seeks it to be known unto the great;
But Avon rich in fame, though poor in waters,
Shall have my song, where Delia hath her seat.: Avon shall be my Thames, and she my song;; I'll sound her name the river all along.
LIX: Unhappy pen and ill-accepted papers,
That intimate in vain my chaste desires,
My chaste desires, the ever-burning tapers
Enkindled by her eyes' celestial fires.: Celestial fires and unrespecting powers,
That deign not view the glory of your might
In humble lines, the work of carefull hours,
The sacrifice I offer to her sight.: But sith she scorns her own, this rests for me;
I'll moan myself and hide the wrong I have,
And so content me that her frowns should be
To my'infant style the cradle and the grave.: What though myself no honor get thereby,; Each bird sings t'herself, and so will I.
LX: Lo, here the impost of a faith unfeigning
That love hath paid, and her disdain extorted,
Behold the message of my just complaining
That shows the world how much my grief imported.: These tributary plaints fraught with desire,
I send those eyes the cabinets of love;
The Paradise whereto my hopes aspire
From out this hell, which mine afflictions prove.: Wherein I thus do live cast down from mirth,
Pensive alone, none but despair about me;
My joys abortive, perish'd at their birth,
My cares long liv'd and will not die without me.: This is my state, and Delia's heart is such;; I say no more; I fear I said too much.
F I N I S
Samuel Daniel

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