Licia Sonnets 33
I wrote my sighs, and sent them to my love;
I praised that fair that none enough could praise;
But plaints nor praises could fair Licia move;
Above my reach she did her virtues raise,
And thus replied: "False Scrawl, untrue thou art,
To feign those sighs that nowhere can be found;
For half those praises came not from his heart
Whose faith and love as yet was never found.
Thy master's life, false Scrawl shall be thy doom;
Because he burns, I judge thee to the flame;
Both your attempts deserve no better room."
Thus at her word we ashes both became.
Believe me, fair, and let my paper live;
Or be not fair, and so me freedom give.
poem by Giles Fletcher The Elder

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Licia Sonnets 49
If that I die, fair Licia, with disdain,
Or heartless live surpriséd with thy wrong,
Then heavens and earth shall accent both my pain,
And curse the time so cruel and so long.
If you be kind, my queen, as you are fair,
And aid my thoughts that still for conquest strive,
Then will I sing and never more despair,
And praise your kindness whilst I am alive.
Till then I pay the tribute of my tears,
To move thy mercy and thy constant truth.
Respect, fair love, how these with sorrow wears
The truest heart unless it find some ruth.
Then grace me, sweet, and with thy favor raise me,
So shall I live and all the world shall praise thee.
poem by Giles Fletcher The Elder

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Sonnet: Praise
Oh, praise me not in a limitless way;
O’er-praise puts mind in enshackled a sway,
Distorting its performance thereafter;
An o’er-enthused mind can’t function better.
The hard-earned, older virtues won o’er years,
In moments of flimsy praises by dears,
Feels weaken’d from its adverse/ill-effects;
Praises any human mind sure infects!
Praise me deservingly and nothing more;
Never praises in excessive measures pour;
It could inebriate my feeble mind,
Unless measured and properly refined.
’Tis better not to be praised if worthy,
Than be o’er-praised, ecstatic and guilty.
poem by John Celes

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Sonnet 100: Oh Tears, No Tears
Oh tears, no tears, but rain from Beauty's skies,
Making those lilies and those roses grow,
Which aye most fair, now more than most fair show,
While graceful Pity Beauty beautifies.
Oh honeyed sighs, which from that breast do rise,
Whose pants do make unspilling cream to flow,
Wing'd with whose breath, so pleasing zephyrs blow
As can refresh the hell where my soul fries.
Oh plaints conserv'd in such a sugar'd phrase
That Eloquence itself envies your praise
While sobb'd-out words a perfect music give.
Such tears, sighs, plaints, no sorrow is but joy:
Or if such heav'nly signs must prove annoy,
All mirth farewell, let me in sorrow live.
poem by Philip Sidney

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Licia Sonnets 32
Years, months, days, hours, in sighs I sadly spend;
I black the night wherein I sleepless toss;
I love my griefs yet wish them at an end;
Thus time's expense increaseth but my loss.
I musing stand and wonder at my love,
That in so fair should be a heart of steel;
And then I think my fancy to remove,
But then more painful I my passions feel;
Thus must I love, sweet fair, until I die,
And your unkindness doth my love increase.
I conquered am, I can it not deny;
My life must end, yet shall my love not cease.
Then heavens, make Licia fair most kind to me,
Or with my life my loss may finished be!
poem by Giles Fletcher The Elder

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Licia Sonnets 40
My grief begun, fair saint, when first I saw
Love in those eyes sit ru]ing with disdain,
Whose sweet commands did keep a world in awe,
And caused them serve your favor to obtain.
I stood as one enchanted with a frown,
Yet smiled to see all creatures serve those eyes,
Where each with sighs paid tribute to that crown,
And thought them gracéd by your dumb rep]ies.
But I, ambitious, could not be content
Till that my service more than sighs made known;
And for that end my heart to you I sent
To say and swear that, fair, it is your own.
Then greater graces, Licia, do impart,
Not dumb replies unto a speaking heart.
poem by Giles Fletcher The Elder

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Fair and Fair
Oenone:
Fair and fair, and twice so fair,
As fair as any may be;
The fairest shepherd on our green,
A love for any lady.
Paris:
Fair and fair, and twice so fair,
As fair as any may be;
Thy love is fair for thee alone
And for no other lady.
Oenone:
My love is fair, my love is gay,
As fresh as bin the flowers in May
And of my love my roundelay,
My merry, merry, merry roundelay,
Concludes with Cupid's curse,--
'They that do change old love for new
Pray gods they change for worse!'
Ambo Simul:
They that do change old love for new,
Pray gods they change for worse!
Oenone:
Fair and fair, and twice so fair,
As fair as any may be;
The fairest shepherd on our green,
A love for any lady.
Paris:
Fair and fair, and twice so fair,
As fair as any may be;
Thy love is fair for thee alone
And for no other lady.
Oenone:
My love can pipe, my love can sing,
My love can many a pretty thing,
And of his lovely praises ring
My merry, merry, merry roundelays
Amen to Cupid's curse.
poem by George Peele

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Licia Sonnets 50
Ah Licia, sigh and say thou art my own;
Nay, be my own, as you full oft have said.
So shall your truth unto the world be known,
And I resolved where now I am afraid.
And if my tongue eternize can your praise,
Or silly speech increase your worthy fame,
If ought I can, to heaven your worth can raise,
The age to come shall wonder at the same.
In this respect your love, sweet love, I told,
My faith and truth I vowed should be forever.
You were the cause if that I was too bold;
Then pardon this my fault or love me never.
But if you frown I wish that none believe me,
For slain with sighs I'll die before I grieve thee.
poem by Giles Fletcher The Elder

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Licia Sonnets 19
That time, fair Licia, when I stole a kiss,
From off those lips, where Cupid lovely laid,
I quaked for cold, and found the cause was this:
My life which loved, for love behind me staid.
I sent my heart my life for to recall,
But that was held, not able to return,
And both detained as captives were in thrall,
And judged by her, that both by sighs should burn.
Fair, burn them both, for that they were so bold,
But let the altar be within thy heart;
And I shall live because my life you hold,
You that give life, to every living part;
A flame I took whenas I stole the kiss;
Take you my life, yet can I live with this.
poem by Giles Fletcher The Elder

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The Dark Star And The Fair
A sonnet to Joe McElderry
There are two stars in my benighted sky
One fair, one dark, and both entitled J.
The fair commends and praises me on high,
The dark despises me, to my dismay.
The fair exalts me to the very heights
And gladly holds me to, like him, be fair;
The dark delights to hold me in despite
And cares not that I fall into despair.
Fair star, you are to me my knight, my knight,
You rescue me from grief on wings of song;
Dark star, you sing, but damn me to the night
And careless, see not when you do me wrong.
I rage if dark usurps the fair above,
Yet when - so sweet – he sings, am filled with love.
poem by Christopher McInnes

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Licia Sonnets 37
I speak, fair Licia, what my torments be,
But then my speech too partial do I find;
For hardly words can with those thoughts agree,
Those thoughts that swarm in such a troubled mind.
Then do I vow my tongue shall never speak
Nor tell my grief that in my heart doth lie;
But cannon-like, I then surcharged do break,
And so my silence worse than speech I try.
Thus speech or none, they both do breed my care;
I live dismayed, and kill my heart with grief;
In all respects my case alike doth fare
To him that wants, and dare not ask relief.
Then you, fair Licia, sovereign of my heart,
Read to yourself my anguish and my smart.
poem by Giles Fletcher The Elder

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Licia Sonnets 24
When as my love lay sickly in her bed,
Pale death did post in hope to have a prey;
But she so spotless made him that he fled;
"Unmeet to die," she cried, and could not stay.
Back he retired, and thus the heavens he told;
"All things that are, are subject unto me,
Both towns, and men, and what the world doth hold;
But her fair Licia still immortal be."
The heavens did grant; a goddess she was made,
Immortal, fair, unfit to suffer change.
So now she lives, and never more shall fade;
In earth a goddess, what can be more strange?
Then will I hope, a goddess and so near,
She cannot choose my sighs and prayers but hear.
poem by Giles Fletcher The Elder

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Licia Sonnets 17
As are the sands, fair Licia, on the shore,
Or colored flowers, garlands of the spring,
Or as the frosts not seen, not felt before,
Or as the fruits that autumn forth doth bring;
As twinkling stars, the tinsel of the night,
Or as the fish that gallop in the seas;
As airs each part that still escapes our sight,
So are my sighs, controllers of my ease.
Yet these are such as needs must have an end,
For things finite none else hath nature done;
Only the sighs, which from my heart I send,
Will never cease, but where they first begun.
Accept them, sweet, as incense due to thee
For you immortal made them so to be.
poem by Giles Fletcher The Elder

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Licia Sonnets 36
Hear how my sighs are echoed of the wind;
See how my tears are pitied by the rain;
Feel what a flame possesséd hath my mind;
Taste but the grief which I possess in vain.
Then if my sighs the blustering winds surpass,
And wat'ry tears the drops of rain exceed,
And if no flame like mine nor is nor was,
Nor grief like that whereon my soul doth feed,
Relent, fair Licia, when my sighs do blow;
Yield at my tears, that flintlike drops consume;
Accept the flame that doth my incense show,
Allow the grief that is my heart's perfume.
Thus sighs and tears, flame, grief shall plead for me;
So shall I pray, and you a goddess be.
poem by Giles Fletcher The Elder

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Down in a valley as Alexis trips
Down in a valley as Alexis trips,
Daphne sat sweetly sleeping.
Soon as the wanton touch’d her ruddy lips,
She nicely falls aweeping.
The wag full softly lifts her,
And to and fro he sifts her:
But when nor sighs, Ah! nor kisses mov’d her pity,
Nor sighs could move her pity,
Nor tears could move her pity,
With plaints he warbles forth this mournful ditty.
poem by John Wilbye

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Olney Hymn 8: O Lord, I Will Praise Thee
I will praise Thee every day
Now Thine anger's turn'd away;
Comfortable thoughts arise
From the bleeding sacrifice.
Here, in the fair gospel-field,
Wells of free salvation yield
Stream of life, a plenteous store,
And my soul shall thirst no more.
Jesus is become at length
My salvation and my strength;
And His praises shall prolong,
While I live, my pleasant song.
Praise ye, then, His glorious name,
Publish His exalted fame!
Still His worth your praise exceeds;
Excellent are all His deeds.
Raise again the joyful sound.
Let the nations roll it round!
Zion, shout! for this is He;
God the Saviour dwells in thee.
poem by William Cowper

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O Lord, I Will Praise Thee
(Isaiah, xii.1)
I will praise Thee every day
Now Thine anger's turn'd away;
Comfortable thoughts arise
From the bleeding sacrifice.
Here, in the fair gospel-field,
Wells of free salvation yield
Stream of life, a plenteous store,
And my soul shall thirst no more.
Jesus is become at length
My salvation and my strength;
And His praises shall prolong,
While I live, my pleasant song.
Praise ye, then, His glorious name,
Publish His exalted fame!
Still His worth your praise exceeds;
Excellent are all His deeds.
Raise again the joyful sound.
Let the nations roll it round!
Zion, shout! for this is He;
God the Saviour dwells in thee.
poem by William Cowper

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Delia VI: Fair is my love, and cruel as she's fair
VI
Fair is my love, and cruel as she's fair:
Her brow shades frowns although her eyes are sunny,
Her smiles are lightning though her pride despair,
And her disdains are gall, her favours honey;
A modest maid, deck'd with a blush of honour,
Whose feet do tread green paths of youth and love,
The wonder of all eyes that look upon her:
Sacred on earth, design'd a saint above.
Chastity and beauty, which were deadly foes,
Live reconciled friends within her brow;
And had she pity to conjoin with those,
Then who had heard the plaints I utter now?
For had she not been fair and thus unkind,
My muse had slept, and none had known my mind.
poem by Samuel Daniel

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Sonnet VI: Fair Is My Love
Fair is my love, and cruel as she's fair;
Her brow shades frowns, although her eyes are sunny;
Her smiles are lightning, though her pride despair;
And her disdains are gall, her favors honey.
A modest maid, deck'd with a blush of honor,
Whose feet do tread green paths of youth and love,
The wonder of all eyes that look upon her,
Sacred on earth, design'd a saint above.
Chastity and Beauty, which are deadly foes,
Live reconciled friends within her brow;
And had she pity to conjoin with those,
Then who had heard the plaints I utter now?
O had she not been fair and thus unkind,
My Muse had slept, and none had known my mind.
poem by Samuel Daniel

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It Ain't Fair That It Ain't Right
Writers B. Eggers, J. Eggers
Copyright 1970
It ain't fair for you to leave me cold and cryin' in the night
It ain't fair to take your body from my arms and out of sight
It ain't fair you've gone and left me where you kissed me I still burn
Are you leaving for my loving this awful hurt and then return
It ain't fair for you to leave me alone to face the morning light
It ain't fair you took my body and then to say that it ain't right
It ain't fair you've made me your woman a no longer a good girl in your eyes
How come before you said you'd love me it ain't fair that it ain't right
It just ain't fair that it ain't right
song performed by by Dolly Parton

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O sweet and fair! These words are mine to use
O sweet and fair! These words are mine to use.
O sweet and fair! A year ago I'ld choose
Some better words of praise
Than sweet and fair.
O sweet and fair, and weak, and most untrue!
O sweet and fair! I still may speak of you
After my year of pain
As sweet and fair.
poem by Lesbia Harford

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