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1 Like as a huntsman after weary chase, 2 Seeing the game from him escap'd away, 3 Sits down to rest him in some shady place, 4 With panting hounds beguiled of their prey: 5 So after long pursuit and vain assay, 6 When I all weary had the chase forsook, 7 The gentle deer return'd the self-same way, 8 Thinking to quench her thirst at the next brook. 9 There she beholding me with milder look, 10 Sought not to fly, but fearless still did bide: 11 Till I in hand her yet half trembling took, 12 And with her own goodwill her firmly tied. 13 Strange thing, me seem'd, to see a beast so wild, 14 So goodly won, with her own will beguil'd. |
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1 One day I wrote her name upon the strand, 2 But came the waves and washed it away: 3 Again I wrote it with a second hand, 4 But came the tide, and made my pains his prey. 5 "Vain man," said she, "that dost in vain assay, 6 A mortal thing so to immortalize; 7 For I myself shall like to this decay, 8 And eke my name be wiped out likewise." 9 "Not so," (quod I) "let baser things devise 10 To die in dust, but you shall live by fame: 11 My verse your vertues rare shall eternize, 12 And in the heavens write your glorious name: 13 Where whenas death shall all the world subdue, 14 Our love shall live, and later life renew." 1. Strand: beach |