Louise Imogen Guiney

Here you will find the Poem A Seventeenth-Century Song of poet Louise Imogen Guiney

A Seventeenth-Century Song

She alone of Shepherdesses 
With her blue disdayning eyes, 
Wo'd not hark a Kyng that dresses 
All his lute in sighes: 
Yet to winne 
I elect for mine Emprise. 

None is like her, none above her, 
Who so lifts my youth in me, 
That a littel more to love her 
Were to leave her free! 
But to winne 
Is mine utmost love's degree. 

Distaunce, cold, delay, and danger, 
Build the four walles of her bower; 
She's noe Sweete for any stranger, 
She's noe valley flower: 
And to winne 
To her height my heart can Tower!

Uppe to Beautie's promontory 
I will climb, not loudlie call 
Perfect and escaping glory 
Folly, if I fall: 
Well to winne 
To be worth her is my all.