Page:Scotish Descriptive Poems - Leyden (1803).djvu/259

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THE TARANTULA OF LOVE.
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SONNET.

I walk within this wood to vent my woes, Remembering all my griefs and endless groans;While growing joys deep sad conceits o'ergoes, And loads my heart with love, my mind with moans.The pleasant singing birds my plaints expones; My tears from springs and wells seem to descend;Yea both the highest hills and hardest stones If ear they have, an ear to me extend.Then at the oaks and alders that perpend My plaints, I speir what way they will me feed,If for to stay with them I condescend: "On green," say they, for green does hope aye breed,Which feeds the wretches, as by proof they prove,And brings despairing souls some ease in love.

SONNET.

I hope, sweet soul, to see, at my return, The heavenly colour of your angel face,Which is the fire and flame whereby I burn, And never is impaired by time nor place.Wherefore, shall als behold in me, this space, No other change but that of hair and hue:As for my heart, which loves in pain, but peace, Even as it was, so shall you find it, true.
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