In time the strong and stately turrets fall, In time the rose and silver lilies die, In time the monarchs captive are and thrall, In time the sea and rivers are made dry; The hardest flint in time doth melt asunder; Still living fame in time doth fade away; The mountains proud we see in time come under; And earth for age we see in time decay; The sun in time forgets for to retire From out the east where he was wont to rise; The basest thoughts we see in time aspire, And greedy minds in time do wealth despise. Thus all, sweet fair, in time must have an end, Except thy beauty, virtues, and thy friend. XXIX Why died I not whenas I last did sleep? O sleep too short that shadowed forth my dear! Heavens, hear my prayers, nor thus me waking keep! For this were heaven, if thus I sleeping were. For in that dark there shone a princely light; Two milk-white hills, both full of nectar sweet, Her ebon thighs, the wonder of my sight, Where all my senses with their objects meet,-- I pass these sports, in secret that are best, Wherein my thoughts did seem alive to be; We both did strive, and weary both did rest; I kissed her still, and still she kissed me. Heavens, let me sleep, and shows my senses feed, Or let me wake and happy be indeed! XXX Whenas my Licia sailed in the seas, Viewing with pride god Neptune's stately crown, A calm she made, and brought the merchant ease, The storm she stayed, and checked him with a frown. Love at the stern sate smiling and did sing To see how seas had learned for to obey; And balls of fire into the waves did fling; And still the boy full wanton thus did say:-- "Both poles we burnt whereon the world doth turn, The round of heaven from earth unto the skies; And now the seas we both intend to burn, I with my bow, and Licia with her eyes." Then since thy force, heavens, earth, nor seas can move, I conquered yield, and do confess I love. XXXI Whenas her lute is tuned to her voice, The air grows proud for honour of that sound, And rocks do leap to show how they rejoice That in the earth such music should be found. Whenas her hair more worth, more pale than gold, Like silver thread lies wafting in the air, Diana-like she looks, but yet more bold; Cruel in chase, more chaste and yet more fair. Whenas she smiles, the clouds for envy breaks; She Jove in pride encounters with a check; The sun doth shine for joy whenas she speaks; Thus heaven and earth do homage at her beck. Yet all these graces, blots, not graces are, If you, my love, of love do take no care. XXXII