Translation Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: A BCBCDEDB FGFGHIJI KLMLNOMO PGQGRLSL TUTUVWXW Y ZVZV A2A2B2B2A2 VLVLC2C2D2D2C2

From La Diana de Monte Mayor in Spanish where Sireno a shepherd whose mistress Diana had utterly forsaken him pulling out a little of her hair wrapped about with green silk to the hair he thus bewailed himselfA
-
What changes here O hairB
I see since I saw youC
How ill fits you this green to wearB
For hope the colour dueC
Indeed I well did hopeD
Though hope were mixed with fearE
No other shepherd should have scopeD
Once to approach this hairB
-
Ah hair how many daysF
My Dian made me showG
With thousand pretty childish playsF
If I ware you or noG
Alas how oft with tearsH
O tears of guileful breastI
She seemed full of jealous fearsJ
Whereat I did but jestI
-
Tell me O hair of goldK
If I then faulty beL
That trust those killing eyes I wouldM
Since they did warrant meL
Have you not seen her moodN
What streams of tears she spentO
'Till that I sware my faith so stoodM
As her words had it bentO
-
Who hath such beauty seenP
In one that changeth soG
Or where one's love so constant beenQ
Who ever saw such woeG
Ah hair are you not grievedR
To come from whence you beL
Seeing how once you saw I livedS
To see me as you seeL
-
On sandy bank of lateT
I saw this woman sitU
Where Sooner die than change my stateT
She with her finger writU
Thus my belief was staidV
Behold Love's mighty handW
On things were by a woman saidX
And written in the sandW
-
-
The same Sireno in Monte Mayor holding his mistress's glass before her and looking upon her while she viewed herself thus sangY
-
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Of this high grace with bliss conjoinedZ
No farther debt on me is laidV
Since that in self same metal coinedZ
Sweet lady you remain well paidV
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For if my place give me great pleasureA2
Having before my nature's treasureA2
In face and eyes unmatched beingB2
You have the same in my hands seeingB2
What in your face mine eyes do measureA2
-
Nor think the match unevenly madeV
That of those beams in you do tarryL
The glass to you but gives a shadeV
To me mine eyes the true shape carryL
For such a thought most highly prizedC2
Which ever hath Love's yoke despisedC2
Better than one captived perceivethD2
Though he the lively form receivethD2
The other sees it but disguisedC2

Philip Sidney (sir)



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