Muses, that sing Love’s sensual empirie,
And lovers kindling your enragèd fires
At Cupid’s bonfires burning in the eye,
Blown with the empty breath of vain desires;
You, that prefer the painted cabinet
Before the wealthy jewels it doth store ye,
...

From the French by Louise Stuart Costello
WHILE yet these tears have power to flow
  For hours for ever past away;
While yet these swelling sighs allow
  My faltering voice to breathe a lay;
  While yet my hand can touch the chords,
    My tender...

Poet: Louise Labé

From “Astrophel and Stella”
LOVING in truth, and fain in verse my love to show,
That she, dear she, might take some pleasure of my pain,—
Pleasure might cause her read, reading might make her know,
Knowledge might pity win, and pity grace obtain,—
I sought...

From “Astrophel and Stella”
WITH how sad steps, O Moon! thou climb’st the skies,
How silently, and with how wan a face!
What may it be, that even in heavenly place
That busy Archer his sharp arrows tries?
Sure, if that long-with-love-acquainted eyes...