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Poem by Alexander Montgomerie


Sonnet 56. On his Maistres. III


Excuse me, Plato, if I suld suppone
That vnderneth the heuinly vauted round,
Without the world, or in pairts profound
By Stix inclosd, that emptie place is none.

If watrie vauts of air be full echone,
Then vhat contenis my teirs vhich so abound
With sighis and sobbis, which to the hevins I sound,
Vhen Love delytis to let me mak my mone?

Suppose the solids subtilis ay restrantis,
Vhich is the maist, my maister, je may mene ;
Thoght all war void, jit culd they not contene
The half, let be the haill of my complaintis.

Vhair go they then? the question wald I c[rave,]
Except for ruth the hevins suld thame [ressave.]



Alexander Montgomerie


Alexander Montgomerie's other poems:
  1. The Cherrie and the Slae
  2. Sonnet 18. To the Lords of the Session. I
  3. Sonnet 30. Christen Lyndesay to Ro. Hudsone
  4. Sonnet 61. Of the Duleweid. III
  5. Sonnet 19. To the Lords of the Session. II


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