Sonnet 59

WHen my good Angell guides me to the place
Where's al my good; I doe in Stella see,
That Heauenly ioyes throwes onely downe on me
Thundred disdaines, and Lightning of disgrace;
But when the ruggedst step of Fortunes race
Makes me fall from her sight, then sweetly she
With words, wherein the Muses Treasures be,
Shewes loue and pittie to my absent case.
Now I (with beating long, by hardest fate)
So dull am, that I cannot looke into
The ground of this fierce loue, and louing hate;
Then some good body tell me how to do,
Whose presence absence, absence presence is:
Blest in my curse, and curssed in my blisse.