Songes and sonettes, written by the right honorable Lorde Henry Haward late Earle of Surrey, and other

About this Item

Title: Songes and sonettes, written by the right honorable Lorde Henry Haward late Earle of Surrey, and other
Publication: [London] :: Apud Richardum Tottel. Cum priuilegio ad imprimendum solum,; 1557.
Rights/Permissions: To the extent possible under law, the Text Creation Partnership has waived all copyright and related or neighboring rights to this keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above, according to the terms of the CC0 1.0 Public Domain Dedication (http://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/zero/1.0/). This waiver does not extend to any page images or other supplementary files associated with this work, which may be protected by copyright or other license restrictions. Please go to http://www.textcreationpartnership.org/ for more information.
Link to this Item: http://name.umdl.umich.edu/A03742.0001.001
Cite this Item: "Songes and sonettes, written by the right honorable Lorde Henry Haward late Earle of Surrey, and other." In the digital collection Early English Books Online. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/A03742.0001.001. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed June 2, 2024.

Pages

The louer to his bed, with describing of his vnqui∣et state.
THe restfull place, renewer of my smart:
The labours salue, encreasing my sorow:
The bodies case, and troubler of my hart:
Quieter of minde, mine vnquiet so:
Forgetter of paine, remembrer of my wo:
The place of slepe, wherin I do but wake:
Besprent with teares, my bed, I thee forsake.
The frosty snowes may not redresse my heat:
Nor heat of sunne abate my feruent cold.
I know nothing to ease my paines so great.
Eche cure causeth encrease by twenty fold.
Renewing cares vpon my sorowes old.
Such ouerthwart effectes in me they make.
Besprent with teares my bed for to forsake.
But all for nought: I finde no better ease
In bed, or out. This most causeth my paine:
Where I do seke how best that I may please,
My lost labour (alas) is all in vaine.
My hart once set, I can not it refraine.
No place from me my griefe away can take.
Wherfore with teares, my bed I thee forsake.