Lady Mary Wroth (1586–c. 1652)

Abstract Sonnet XIX from The Countess of Montgomery’s Urania COME, darkest night, becoming sorrow best; Light, leave thy light, fit for a lightsome soul; Darkness doth truly suit with me oppressed, Whom absence’ power doth from mirth control: The very trees with hanging heads condole Sweet summer’s parting, and of leaves distressed In dying colours make a griefful roll, So much, alas, to sorrow are they pressed. Thus of dead leaves her farewell carpet’s made: Their fall, their branches, all their mournings prove, With leafless, naked bodies, whose hues vade From hopeful green, to wither in their love: If trees and leaves for absence mourners be, No marvel that I grieve, who like want see. Sonnet VI from Pamphilia to Amphilanthus My paine still smother’d in my grieved brest, Seekes for some ease, yet cannot passage finde, To be discharged of this unwelcome guest, When most I strive, more fast his burthens binde. Like to a Ship on Goodwins cast by winde, The more shee strive, more deepe in Sand is prest, Till she be lost: so am I in this kind Sunck, and devour’d, and swallow’d by unrest.