Delia: Sonnet 44

HOwe long shall I in mine affliction mourne?
A burthen to my selfe, distrest in mind,
VVhen shall my interdicted hopes returne,
From out dispaire wherein they liue confin'd.
VVhen shall her troubled brow, charg'd with disdaine,
Reueale the treasure which her smyles impart:
VVhen shall my faith the happines attaine,
To breake the Ise that hath congeald her hart.
Vnto herselfe, herselfe my loue doth sommon,
(If loue in her hath any power to moue,)
And let her tell me as shee is a woman,
VVhether my faith hath not deseru'd her loue.
I know shee cannot but must needs confesse it,
Yet deignes not with one simple signe t'expresse it.