Scotish Descriptive Poems/Fowler's Poems/Sonnet 3
For works with similar titles, see Sonnet.
SONNET.
I walk within this wood to vent my woes,
Remembering all my griefs and endless groans;
While growing joys deep sad conceits o'ergoes,
And loads my heart with love, my mind with moans.
The pleasant singing birds my plaints expones;
My tears from springs and wells seem to descend;
Yea both the highest hills and hardest stones
If ear they have, an ear to me extend.
Then at the oaks and alders that perpend
My plaints, I speir what way they will me feed,
If for to stay with them I condescend:
"On green," say they, for green does hope aye breed,
Which feeds the wretches, as by proof they prove,
And brings despairing souls some ease in love.
Remembering all my griefs and endless groans;
While growing joys deep sad conceits o'ergoes,
And loads my heart with love, my mind with moans.
The pleasant singing birds my plaints expones;
My tears from springs and wells seem to descend;
Yea both the highest hills and hardest stones
If ear they have, an ear to me extend.
Then at the oaks and alders that perpend
My plaints, I speir what way they will me feed,
If for to stay with them I condescend:
"On green," say they, for green does hope aye breed,
Which feeds the wretches, as by proof they prove,
And brings despairing souls some ease in love.