Delia: Sonnet 43

MY DELIA hath the waters of mine eyes,
The ready handmaids on her grace attending:
That neuer fall to ebb, but euer rise,
For to their flow shee neuer grants an ending.
Th'Ocean neuer did attend more dulie
Vpon his soueraignes course, the nights pale Queen,
Nor paid the impost of his waues more truely,
Then mine vnto her Deitie haue been.
Yet nought the rock of that hard hart can moue,
Where beate these teares with zeale, & fury driueth,
And yet I rather languish in her loue,
Then I would ioy the fairest shee that liueth.
I doubt to finde such pleasure in my gayning,
As now I taste, in compasse of complayning.