ఈ పుట ఆమోదించబడ్డది
Three times with sighs she gives her sorrow fire
Ere once she can discharge one word of woe :
At length addressed to answer his desire,
She modestly prepares to let them know
Her honour is ta*en prisoner by the foe : 54
As through an arch the violent roaring tide
Out runs the eye that cloth behold his haste,
Yet in the eddy boundeth in his pride
Back to the strait that forcM him on so fast,
In rage sent out, recalled in range, being past ;
Even so his sighs a his sorrows, make a saw,
To push grief on, and back the same grief draw. 55
SUNNETS
When most I wink, then do mine eyes best see,
For all the day they view things unrespected ;
But when I sleep, in dreams they look on thee, 56
