I.

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.”_