As to the Roman that would free his land, His error was his honor and renown And more the fame of his mistaking hand Than if he had the tyrant overthrown, So, Delia, hath mine error made me known, And deceiv'd attempt deserv'd more fame Than if I had the victory mine own, And thy hard heart had yielded up the same. And so, likewise, renowned is thy blame, Thy cruelty, thy glory; O strange case, That errors should be grac'd that merit shame And sin of frowns bring honor to thy face. Yet happy, Delia, that thou wast unkind, But happier yet, if thou wouldst change thy mind.
Sonnet LIII: Drawn
- by Samuel Daniel68
Drawn by th'attractive virtue of her eyes, My touch'd heart turns it to that happy coast; My joyful North, where all my fortune lies, The level of my hopes desired most. There where my Delia , fairer than the Sun, Deckt with her youth whereon the world smileth, Joys in that honor which her beauty won, Th'eternal volume which her fame compileth. Flourish, fair Albion, glory of the North, Neptune's darling held between his arms, Divided from the world as better worth, Kept for himself, defended from all harms. Still let disarmed peace deck her and thee, And Muse-foe Mars abroad far foster'd be.
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