Weep, Lovers, sith Love’s very self doth weep,
And sith the cause for weeping is so great;
When now so many dames, of such estate
In worth, show with their eyes a grief so deep:
For Death the churl has laid his leaden sleep
Upon a damsel who was fair of late,
Defacing all our earth should celebrate,—
Yea all save virtue, which the soul doth keep.
Now hearken how much Love did honour her.
I myself saw him in his proper form
Bending above the motionless sweet dead,
And often gazing into Heaven; for there
The soul now sits which when her life was warm
Dwelt with the joyful beauty that is fled.
_This first sonnet is divided into three parts. In the first, I call
and beseech the Faithful of Love to weep; and I say that their Lord
weeps, and that they, hearing the reason why he weeps, shall be more
minded to listen to me. In the second, I relate this reason. In the
third, I speak of honour done by Love to this Lady. The second part
begins here, “When now so many dames;” the third here, “Now hearken.”_