THE RAPE OF LUCRECY.
What win I, if I gain the thing I seek ?
A dream, a breath, a froth of fleeting joy,
Who buys a minute's mirth to wail a week,
Or sells eternity to get a toy ?
For one sweet grape who will the vine destroy ?
Or what fond beggar, but to touch "the crown,
Would with the sceptre straight be strucken down ? 58
SONNETS LXVL
Tir'd with all these, for restful death I cry ;
As, to behold desert a beggar born,
And needy nothing trimm'd in jollity,
And purest faith unhappily forsworn,
And gilded honour shamefully misplacM,
And maiden virtue rudely strumpeted,
And right perfection wrongfully disgraced,
And strength by limping sway disabled,
And art made tongue tied by authority,
And folly (doctor-like) controlling skill,
And simple truth miscall'd simplicity,
And captive good attending captain ill : 59
పుట:NavarasaTarangini.djvu/190
ఈ పుట ఆమోదించబడ్డది
