Mary Wroth Poems

Unprofitably pleasing, and unsound.
When Heaven gave liberty to fraile dull earth,
To bringe foorth plenty that in ills abound,
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Be giv'n to him who triumphs in his right;
Nor fading be, but like those blossomes faire,
Which fall for good, and lose their colours bright,
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Free from all foggs, but shining faire, and cleare,
Wise in all good, and innocent in ill,
Where holly friendship is esteemed deare,
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Is to leave all, and take the threed of Love,
Which line straite leades unto the soules content,
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HIs flames are ioyes, his bandes true Lovers might,
No stain is there, but pure, as purest white,
Where no cloud can appaere to dimme his light,
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And be in his brave Court a glorious light
Shine in the eyes of Faith, and Constancy
Maintaine the fires of Love, still burning bright,
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And burne, yet burning you will love the smart,
When you shall feele the waight of true desire,
So pleasing, as you would not wish your part
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What pleasure can a banish'd creature have
In all the pastimes that invented are
By wit or learning? Absence making warre
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If I were given to mirth, 'twould be more crosse,
Thus to be robbed of my chiefest joy:
But silently I beare my greatest losse
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It is not Love which you poore fooles do deeme,
That doth appeare by fond and outward showes
Of kissing, toying, or by swearings gloze:
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