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Original text:
Sonnet 9
Oft had I past the ioies and greefes in loue
and weary of them both was layde to rest
and now desyre as an vnworthy ghest
wch doth oppress his frend, I did remoue
Noe womans force, I thowght showld euer moue
my sowle kome home againe to new vnrest
when yow or in yowr shape an Angel drest
caled out my quiet thowghts once more to loue
Streight my prowd wil did vnto praiers ture
for whoe in yow, not cause of loue doth finde
or blinde hee is of eyes, or blinde of minde
I yealde, I loue, to yow, the erst, I burn,
more hott, more pure, like wood oft warme before
But to yow burnt to dust, kan burn no more.
1590s-1600s
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Contemporary text:
Sonnet 9
Oft had I passed the joys and grieves in love
And weary of them both was laid to rest,
And now desire, as an unworthy guest
Which doth oppress his friend, I did remove:
No woman’s force, I thought should ever move
My soul come home again to new unrest
When you, or in your shape an Angel dressed
Called out my quiet thoughts once more to love:
Straight my proud will did unto prayers turn,
For who in yow, not cause of love doth find
Or blind he is of eyes, or blind of mind
I yield, I love: to you, than erst, I burn,
More hot, more pure; like wood oft warm before,
But to yow burnt to dust, can burn no more.
1590s-1600s
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Notes
См. также / See also
