What woful stuff this madrigal would be, In some starv'd hackney sonneteer or me! But let a lord once own the happy lines, How the wit brightens! how the style refines.
When raging love with extreme pain Most cruelly distrains my heart; When that my tears, as floods of rain, Bear witness of my woful smart; When sighs have wasted so my breath That I lie at the point of death: I call to mind the navy great That the Greeks brought to Troyè town: And how the boisterous winds did beat Their ships, and rent their sails adown; Till Agamemnon 's daughter's blood Appeased the gods that them withstood.howard, henry, earl of surrey
O happy dames! that may embrace The fruit of your delight; Help to bewail the woful case, And eke the heavy plight Of me, that wonted to rejoice The fortune of my pleasant choice: Good ladies! help to fill my mourning voice.howard, henry, earl of surrey