Sonnet II: Go, Wailing Verse

Go, wailing verse, the infants of my love,

Minerva-like, brought forth without a Mother:

Present the image of the cares I prove;

Witness your Father's grief exceeds all other.

Sigh out a story of her cruel deeds,

With interrupted accents of despair:

A monument that whosoever reads

May justly praise, and blame my loveless Fair.

Say her disdain hath dried up my blood,

And starved you, in succours still denying;

Press to her eyes, importune me some good;

Waken her sleeping pity with your crying.

Knock at that hard heart, beg till you have mov'd her,

And tell th'unkind how dearly I have lov'd her.