E C Esquire

1500-1600 / England

Sonnet Iii

Why doe I pleade for mercie vnto thee,
When from offence my life & soule are cleere?
For in my heart I neere offended thee,
Vnlesse the hie pitch of his flight it were.
I that is it, I to too well consider,
Thy sparkling beautie is the sunne that melted:
My thoughts the waxe that ioyn'd his wings together,
And till my very fall I neuer felt it:
Despaire the Ocean is that swallowed me,
Where I like
Icarus
continue drowned,
Till with thy beautie I reuiued be,
And with loues immortalitie be crowned.
True loue immortall is, then loue me truly:
Sweet doe, and then thy name Ile honor duly.
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