Hear how my sighs are echoed of the wind; <br />See how my tears are pitied by the rain; <br />Feel what a flame possesséd hath my mind; <br />Taste but the grief which I possess in vain. <br />Then if my sighs the blustering winds surpass, <br />And wat'ry tears the drops of rain exceed, <br />And if no flame like mine nor is nor was, <br />Nor grief like that whereon my soul doth feed, <br />Relent, fair Licia, when my sighs do blow; <br />Yield at my tears, that flintlike drops consume; <br />Accept the flame that doth my incense show, <br />Allow the grief that is my heart's perfume. <br />Thus sighs and tears, flame, grief shall plead for me; <br />So shall I pray, and you a goddess be.<br /><br />Giles Fletcher The Elder<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/licia-sonnets-36/
