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Booke Of Songs And Aires
My thoughts are wing'd with hopes
My thoughts are wing'd with hopes

My thoughts are wing'd with hopes, my hopes with love.
Mount, Love, unto the moon in clearest night
And you my thoughts that some mistrust do carry,
If for mistrust my mistress do you blame,
If she for this with clouds do mask her eyes,
And make the heavens dark with her disdain,
And say, as she doth in the heavens move,
In earth, so wanes and waxeth my delight.
Say though you alter, yet you do not vary,
As she doth change and yet remain the same.
With windy sighs disperse them in the skies,
Or with thy tears dissolve them into rain,
And whisper this but softly in her ears,
Hope oft doth hang the head and Trust shed tears.
Distrust doth enter hearts but not in feet,
And love is sweetest seasoned with suspect
Thoughts, hopes and love, return to me no more
Till Cynthia shine as she hath done before.

George Clifford, 3rd Earl of Cumberland (1558-1606)






 
 
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