Thomas Lodge Poems
|8.||Rosalind: Like To The Clear In Highest Sphere||12/31/2002|
|9.||Like To The Clear In Highest Sphere||1/3/2003|
|10.||Love Is A Sickness||1/3/2003|
|11.||The Earth, Late Chok'D With Showers||1/3/2003|
LIKE to the clear in highest sphere
Where all imperial glory shines,
Of selfsame colour is her hair
Whether unfolded or in twines:
Heigh ho, fair Rosaline!
Her eyes are sapphires set in snow,
Resembling heaven by every wink;
The gods do fear whenas they glow,
And I do tremble when I think
Heigh ho, would she were mine!
Her cheeks are like the blushing cloud
That beautifies Aurora's face,
Or like the silver crimson ...