Seccombe and Arber, comps. Elizabethan Sonnets. 1904.
DiellaSonnet XXVI. The love-hurt heart, which tyrant Cupid wounds
Richard Linche (fl. 15961601)T
(proudly insulting o’er his conquered prey)
Doth bleed afresh where pleasure most abounds:
for Mirth and Mourning always make a fray.
Look, as a bird sore bruisèd with a blow
(lately dividing notes most sweetly singing),
To hear her fellows, how in tunes they flow,
doth droop and pine, as though her knell were ringing.
The heavy-thoughted prisoner, full of doubt,
dolefully sitting in a close-barred cage,
Is half contented; till he looketh out.
he sees each free: then storms he in a rage!
The sight of Pleasure trebleth every pain;
As small brooks swell, and are enraged with rain.