'Ah, why art thou,' she pityingly says,
'Pining away before thy hour?'
(Sonnet 238.)
The waters and the branches and the shore,
Birds, fishes, flowers, grasses, talk of love,
And me to love for ever all invite.
(Sonnet 239.)
Thou'st left the world, oh Death, without a sun....
Her mourners should be earth and sea and air.
(Sonnet 294.)