University of Virginia Library

Sonnet I.

[When first the feather'd God did strike my hart]

When first the feather'd God did strike my hart,
with fatall and ymedicable wound,
Leauing behind the head of his fell dart,
my bloodlesse body fell vnto the ground;
And, when with shame I reinforc'd my might,
boldly to gaze on her so heauenly face,
Huge flames of fire she darted from her light,
which since haue scorcht me in most pitious case,
To quench which heate, an Ocean of teares
haue gushed out from forth my red-swolne eyes,
But deep-fetch'd sighes this raging flame vpreares,
and blowes the sparkes vp to the purple skies.
Whereat, the Gods afraid that heauen should burne,
Intreated Loue that I for e're might mourne.

Sonnet II.

[Soone as the Azur-color'd Gates of th' East]

Soone as the Azur-color'd Gates of th' East,
were set wide open by the watchful Morne,
I walkt abroad, (as hauing tooke no rest)
(for nights are tedious to a man forlorne,)
And viewing well each pearle-bedewed flower,
then waxing dry by splendour of the sunne,
All scarled-hew'd I saw him gin to lower,
and blush, as though some haynous act were don.
At this amaz'd, I hy'de me home amaine,
thinking that I his anger caused had;
And at his set, abroad I walkt againe,
when (loe) the Moone lookt wondrous pale and sad.
Anger the one, and enuie mou'd the other,
To see my loue more faire then Loues faire mother.

Sonnet III.

[Swift-footed Time, looke back & here mark well]

Swift-footed Time, looke back & here mark well
those rare-shapt parts my pen shal now declare:
My mistres snow-white skinne doth much excell
the pure-soft woll Arcadyan sheepe doe beare;
Her hayre exceedes gold forc'd in smallest wyre,
in smaller threds then those Arachne spun;
Her eyes are christall fountaines, yet dart fire,
more glorious to behold then Mid-day sun;
Her Iuory front, (though soft as purest silke)
lookes like the table of Olympick Ioue,
Her cheekes are like ripe cherries layd in milke,
her Alablaster neck the throne of Loue;
Her other parts so farre excell the rest,
That wanting words, they cannot be exprest.

Sonnet IIII.

[What sugred termes, what all-perswading arte]

What sugred termes, what all-perswading arte,
what sweet mellifluous words, what woūding lookes
Loue vsd for his admittance to my hart?
such eloquence was neuer read in bookes;
He promisd pleasure, rest, and endlesse ioy,
fruition of the fairest shee aliue,
His pleasure paine, rest trouble, ioy annoy,
haue I since found, which me of blisse depriue;
The Troian horse thus haue I now let in,
wherein inclosd these armed men were plac'd,
Bright eyes, faire cheekes, sweet lips, & milk-white skin
these foes my life haue ouerthrown & raz'd.
Faire outward shewes, proue inwardly the worst,
Loue looketh faire, but Louers are accurst.

Sonnet V.

[The little Archer viewing well my loue]

The little Archer viewing well my loue,
stone-still amaz'd, admired such a sight,
And swore he knew none such to dwell aboue,
though many faire, none so conspicuous bright:
With that inrag'd, (flamigerous as he is)
he now gan loathe his Psiches louely face,
And swore great othes to rob me of my blisse,
saying that earth for her was too too base;
But Cytherea checkt her lordly sonne,
commaunding him to bring no giglet thether,
Fearing indeed, her amorous sports were done
with hote-spur Mars, if hee should once but see her.
If then her beauty moue the Gods aboue,
Let all men iudge if I haue cause to loue.

Sonnet VI.

[Mirror of beautie, Natures fairest chyld]

Mirror of beautie, Natures fairest chyld,
Empresse of loue, my harts high-prized Iewell,
Learne of the Doue, to loue and to be milde,
be not to him that honors thee so cruell,
But as the Aspe, deafe, angry, nothing meeke,
thou wilt not listen to my dolefull plaint,
Nor once wilt looke on my discolored cheeke,
which wanting blood, causeth me oft to faint;
Then silent will I be, if that will please thee,
yet so, as in my stead, each Plaine, each Hill,
Shall eccho forth my griefe, and thereby ease mee,
for I my selfe of speaking haue my fill;
If Plaines, and Hills, be silent in my paine,
My death shall speake, and tell what I sustaine.

Sonnet VII.

[Whē Loue had first besieg'd my harts strong wal]

Whē Loue had first besieg'd my harts strong wal,
rampaird and countermur'd with chastitie,
And had with Ordnance made his tops to fall,
stouping their glory to his surquedry,
I call'd a parley, and withall did craue
some composition, or some friendly peace;
To this request, he his consent soone gaue,
as seeming glad such cruell warrs should cease,
I, (nought mistrusting) opened all the gates,
yea, lodg'd him in the Pallace of my hart,
VVhen (loe) in dead of night he seekes his mates,
and shewes each Traytor how to play his part;
VVith that they fir'de my hart, and thence gan flie,
Their names, Sweet smiles, Faire face, & piercing Eye

Sonnet VIII.

[Like to a Faulcon watching for a flight]

Like to a Faulcon watching for a flight,
duly attending his desired game,
Haue I oft watcht and markt to haue a sight,
of thy faire face exceeding niggard Fame,
Thyne eyes (those Semynaries of my griefe)
haue been more gladsome to my tyred spright,
Then naked sauadges receiue reliefe,
by comfort-bringing warmth of Phœbus light;
But when each part so glorious I had seene,
I trembled more then Autumnes parched leaues,
Mine eyes were greedy whirlepooles sucking in
that heauenly faire which me of rest bereaues;
Then as thy beauty thus hath conquerd mee,
(Faire) let relenting pitty conquer thee.

Sonnet IX.

[Blot not thy beautie (fairest) yet vnkinde]

Blot not thy beautie (fairest) yet vnkinde,
with cruell vsage of a yeelding hart,
The stoutest Captaine scornes such bloody minde,
then mingle mercy where thou causedst smart;
Let him not die in his May-springing dayes,
that liuing vowes to honour thee for euer,
Shine forth some pitty from thy sun-like rayes,
that hard froz'd hate may so dissolue and seuer;
Oh, were thou not much harder then a flint,
thou had'st ere this been melted into loue,
In firmest stone small raine doth make a print,
but seas of teares cannot thy hardnes moue.
Then wretched I must die before my time,
Blasted & spoyled in my budding prime.

Sonnet X.

[When Flora vaunts her in her proude array]

When Flora vaunts her in her proude array,
clothing faire Tellus in a spangled gowne,
VVhen Boreas furie is exild away,
and all the VVelkin cleer'd from cloudy frowne,
At that same time all Natures chyldren ioy,
trees leaues, flowers bud, plants spring, & beasts increase,
Only my soule, surcharg'd wt deep annoy,
cannot reioyce, nor sighes nor teares can cease:
Onely the grafts of sorrow seeme to grow,
set in my hart, no other spring I finde,
Delights and pleasures are o'regrowne with woe,
laments and sobs possesse my weeping minde;
The frost of griefe so nyps Delight at roote,
No sunne but shee can doe it any boote.

Sonnet XI.

[What shee can be so cruell as my Loue]

What shee can be so cruell as my Loue,
or beare a hart so pittilesse as shee?
VVhō loue, lookes, words, teares, prayers doe not moue,
nor sighes, nor vowes preuaile to pittie mee.
Shee calls my loue a Synon to her hart,
my lookes (shee saith) are like the Crocadyles,
My words the Syrens sing with guilefull arte,
teares, Cyrces flouds, sighes, vowes, deceitful guiles,
But my poore hart hath no interpreter,
but loue, lookes, words, teares, prayers, sighes or vowes,
Then must it die, sith shee my Comforter,
what ere I doe, nor liketh, nor allowes.
VVith Titius, thus the vultur Sorrow eats me,
With steele-twig'd rods thus tyrant Cupid beats me.

Sonnet XII.

[Thou, (like the faire-fac'd gold-encouerd booke]

Thou, (like the faire-fac'd gold-encouerd booke,
whose lines are stuft with damned heresies)
Dost in thy face beare a celestial looke,
when in thy hart liue hell-borne cruelties.
With poysenous Toades ye cleerest spring's infected
and purest Launes nought worth if ful of staines,
So is faire beauty when true loue's reiected;
when cole-blacke hate within the hart remaines,
Then loue, (my deere) let that be Methry date
to ouer-come the venome of disdaine;
Be pittifull, tread downe this killing hate,
conuert to sugred pleasure, gall-full paine.
O, sith Disdaine is foe vnto thy Faire,
Exile him thence, there let him not repaire.

Sonnet XIII.

[I know, within my mouth for bashfull feare]

I know, within my mouth for bashfull feare,
and dread of your disdaine, my words wil die;
I know, I shall be striken dumbe (my deere)
with doubt of your vnpittifull reply;
I know, when as I shall before you lie
prostrate and humble, crauing help of you,
Mistie aspects will cloude your sun-bright eye,
& scornefull lookes oreshade your beauties hewe,
I know, when I shall pleade my loue so true,
so stainelesse, constant, loyall, and vpright,
My truthfull pleadings will not cause you rue
the ne're-heard state of my distressed plight.
I know, when I shall come with face bedight
with streaming teares, faln frō my fountaine eyes,

Sonnet XIII.

[Breathing forth sighes of most hart-breaking might]

Breathing forth sighes of most hart-breaking might,
my teares, my sighes, and me, you will despise,
I know, when with the power that in me lyes,
and all the prayers and vowes that women moue,
I shall in humblest mercy-mouing wise
intreate, beseech, desire, and beg your loue,
I know, (sweet mayden) all will not remoue
flynt-harted rigour from your rocky breast,
But all my meanes, my sute, and what I proue,
proues bad, and I must liue in all vnrest.
Dying in life, and liuing still in death,
And yet nor die, nor drawe a life-like breath.

Sonnet XIIII.

[Whē broad-fac'd riuers turne vnto their foūtains]

Whē broad-fac'd riuers turne vnto their foūtains
and hungry Wolues deuoured are by Sheep,
When Marine Dolphins play on snow-tipt Mountains
& foule-form'd Beares do in ye Ocean keep,
Then shall I leaue to loue, and cease to burne
in these hot flames wherein I now delight,
But this I knowe, the Riuers ne're returne,
nor silly Sheep with rauening Wolues dare fight,
Nor Dolphins leaue the Seas, nor Beares the woods,
for Nature bids them all to keepe their kind,
Then eyes, rayne forth your ouer-swelled floods,
till drowned in such Seas may make you blind:
Then (harts delight) sith I must loue thee euer,
Loue me againe, and let thy loue perseuer.

Sonnet XV.

[No sooner leaues Hyperion Thetis bed]

No sooner leaues Hyperion Thetis bed,
and mounts his coach to post from thence away,
Richly adorning faire Leucotheas head,
gyuing to mountaynes tincture from his ray:
But straight I rise, where I could find no rest,
where visions and fantasies appeare,
And when with small adoo my body's drest;
abroad I walke to thinke vpon my deere;
VVhere vnder vmbrage of some aged Tree,
with Lute in hand I sit and (sighing) say,
Sweete Groues tell forth with Eccho what you see:
good Trees beare witnes who is my decay,
And thou my soule, speake, speake, what rest I haue,
When each our ioyes dispayre doth make me raue.

Sonnet XVI.

[Bvt thou my deere sweet-sounding Lute be still]

Bvt thou my deere sweet-sounding Lute be still,
repose thy troubled strings vpon this mosse,
Thou hast full often easd me gainst my will,
lye down in peace, thy spoile were my great losse,
Ile speake inough of her (too cruell) hart,
enough to mooue the stonie Rocks to ruth,
And cause these trees weepe tears to heare my smart
though (cruell she) will not once way my truth,
Her face is of the purest white and red,
her eyes are christall, and her haire is gold,
The world for shape with garlands crown her head,
And yet a Tygresse hart dwells in this mold:
But I must loue her (Tigresse) too too much,
Forc'd must I loue, because I finde none such.

Sonnet XVII.

[The sun-scorcht Sea-man when he sees the Seas]

The sun-scorcht Sea-man when he sees the Seas
all in a furie hoist him to the skye,
And throwe him down againe (as waues do please)
(so chased clouds from Eols mastiues flye)
In such distresse prouideth with great speede
all meanes to saue him from the tempests rage,
Hee shewes his wit in such lyke time of neede,
the big-swolne billowes furie to asswage;
But foolish I; although I see my death,
and feels her proud disdayne too feelinglie,
VVhich me of all felicitie bereaueth,
yet seeke no meanes t'escape this miserie:
So am I charm'd with hart-inchaunting beautie,
That still to waile I thinke it is my dutie.

Sonnet XVIII.

[Cvpid had done some heynous act or other]

Cvpid had done some heynous act or other,
that caus'd Idalea whip him very sore;
The stubborne Boy away runs from his Mother,
protesting stoutly to returne no more;
By chance I met him, who desir'd reliefe,
and crau'd that I some lodging would him giue,
Pittying his lookes which seemed drown'd in griefe,
I tooke him home there thinking hee should liue,
But see the Boy; enuying at my lyfe,
which neuer sorrowe, neuer loue had tasted,
Hee rays'd within my hart such vncouth stryfe,
that with the same my body now is wasted:
By thanklesse Loue, thus vilely am I vsed,
By vsing kindnes, I am thus abused.

Sonnet XIX.

[When night returnes backe to his vgly mantion]

When night returnes backe to his vgly mantion,
& cleer-fac'd morning makes her bright vprise,
In sorrowes depth, I murmur out his cantion,
(salt teares distilling from my dewy eyes)
O thou deceitfull Somnus God of Dreames,
cease to afflict my ouer-pained spright
VVith vayne illusions, and idle Theames,
thy spells are false, thou canst not charme aright,
For when in bed I thinke t'imbrace my loue,
(inchaunted by thy magique so to thinke)
Vaine are my thoughts, tis empty ayre I proue,
that still I waile, till watching make me winke:
And when I winke I wish I nere might wake,
But sleeping carryed to the Stigian Lake.

Sonnet XX.

[The strongest Pyne that Queene Feronia hath]

The strongest Pyne that Queene Feronia hath,
growing within her woody Emperie,
Is soone throwne downe by Boreas windy wrath,
if one roote onely his supporter be,
The tallest Ship that cuts the angry Waue,
and plowes the Seas of Saturnes second sunne;
If but one Anchor for a iourney haue,
when that is lost gainst euery Rocke doth runne;
I am that Pyne (faire loue) that Ship am I,
and thou that Anchor art and roote to me,
If then thou faile, (oh faile not) I must die,
and pyne away in endlesse miserie:
But words preuaile not, nor can sighes deuise,
To mooue thy hart, if bent to tyrannize.

Sonnet XXI.

[As winters rage young plants vnkindly spilleth]

As winters rage young plants vnkindly spilleth,
as haile greene Corne, and lightning floures perish,
So mans decay, is loue, whose hart it killeth.
if in his soule hee carefully it cherrish;
O how alluringly hee offers grace,,
and breathes newe hope of lyfe into our thought,
VVith cheerefull, pleasant, (yet deceitfull) face
he creepes, & fawnes, till in his net w'are caught,
Then, when he sees vs Captiues by him led,
and sees vs prostrate humbly crauing helpe,
So feirce a Lyon Lybia neuer bred,
nor Adders sting, nor any Tigresse whelpe:
Oh blest be they that neuer felt his force,
Loue hath nor pittie, mercy, nor remorse.

Sonnet XXII.

[Looke as a Bird, through sweetnes of the call]

Looke as a Bird, through sweetnes of the call
doth cleane forget the fowlers guilefull trap;
Or one that gazing on the starres doth fall
in some deepe pit bewayling his mishap;
So wretched I, whilst with Lynceus eyes,
I greedily beheld her Angels face,
VVas straight intangled with such subtilties,
as euer since I liue in wofull case;
Her checkes were Roses, layd in christall glasse,
her breastes two aples of Hesperides,
Her voyce more sweete then famous Thamiras,
reuiuing death with dorique mellodies:
I harkning so to this attractiue call,
VVas caught, and euer since haue liu'd in thrall.

Sonnet XXIII.

[My lyues preseruer, hope of my harts blisse]

My lyues preseruer, hope of my harts blisse,
when shall I know the doome of life or death?
Hells fearefull torments easier are then this
soules agonie, wherein I now doe breath,
If thou would'st looke, this my teare-stayned face,
dreery, and wan, far diffring from it was,
VVould well reueale my most tormentfull case
and shewe thy faire, my griefe as in a glasse:
Looke as a Deere late wounded very sore,
among the Heard full heauely dooth feede,
So do I lyue: expecting euermore,
when as my wounded hart shold cease to bleede:
How patient then would I endure the smart,
Of pitchy-countnanc'd Deaths dead-doing dart.

Sonnet XXIIII.

[When leaden-harted sleepe had shut mine eyes]

When leaden-harted sleepe had shut mine eyes,
and close o'redrawn their windolets of light,
Whose watrynes the fire of griefe so dries,
that weep they could no longer, sleep they might,
Mee thought, I sunke downe to a poole of griefe,
and thē (me thought) such sinking much did please me
But when I downe was plung'd past all reliese,
with flood-fill'd mouth I call'd ye some wold ease me
Whereat (me thought) I saw my deerest loue,
(fearing my drowning) reach her hand to mine,
VVho pull'd so hard to get me vp aboue,
that with the pull sleepe did forsake mine eyne:
But when awakt I sawe t'was but a dreame,
I wisht t'had slept and perrisht in that streame,

Sonnet XXV.

[Rough stormes haue calmes, lopt boughes do grow againe]

Rough stormes haue calmes, lopt boughes do grow againe,
the naked winter is recloth'd by spring,
No yeare so due, but there doth fall some raine,
Nature is kind (saue me) to euery thing,
Onely my griefes do neuer end nor cease,
no ebbe doth followe my still-flowing teares,
My sighes, are stormes which neuer can appease
their furious blastes procur'd by endlesse cares,
Then sighes and sobs, tell Tantalus he's blest,
goe flye to Titius tell him hee hath pleasure,
So tell Ixion though his wheele ne're rest,
their paines are sports imposed with some measure
Bid them be patient, bid them looke on me,
And they shall see the Map of miserie.

Sonnet XXVI.

[The loue-hurt hart which Tyrant Cupid wounds]

The loue-hurt hart which Tyrant Cupid wounds,
proudly insulting o're his conquer'd pray,
Doth bleede a fresh where pleasure most abounds,
for mirth and mourning alwayes make a fray.
Looke as a Bird sore bruzed with a blowe,
(lately deuiding notes most sweetly singing)
To heare her fellowes how in tunes they flowe,
doth droope & pine, as though her knel were ringing,
The heauie-thoughted Prys'ner full of doubt,
dolefully sitting in a close-bar'd cage,
Is halfe contented, till hee looketh out,
he sees each free, then stormes hee in a rage;
The sight of pleasure trebleth euery payne,
As small Brooks swell and are inrag'd with rayne.

Sonnet XXVII.

[The heauens Herrald may not make compare]

The heauens Herrald may not make compare
of working words which so abound in thee,
Thy hony-dewed tongue exceedes his far,
in sweete discourse, and tunefull mellodie,
Th' amber-color'd tresse which Berenice
for her true-louing Ptholomaus vow'd,
VVithin Idaleas sacred Aphrodice,
is worth-lesse with thy lockes to be allow'd,
To thee my thoughts are consecrate (deere loue)
my words & phrases bound to please thine eares,
My lookes are such as any hart could moue,
I still sollicit thee with sighes and teares:
O let not hate eclypse thy beauties shine,
Then none would deeme thee earthly, but deuine.

Sonnet XXVIII

[Wearie with seruing where I nought could get]

Wearie with seruing where I nought could get,
I thought to crosse great Neptunes greatest Seas,
To lyue in exile; but my drift was let,
by cruell Fortune spightfull of such ease,
The Ship I had to passe in, was my minde,
greedie desire was topsaile of the same,
My teares were surges, sighes did serue for winde,
of all my Ship dispayre, was cheifest frame,
Sorrowe was Maister, care the cable rope,
griefe was the maine Mast, Loue the Captaine of it,
He that did rule the helme, was foolish hope,
but beautie was the Rocke that my ship split:
Which since hath made such shipwrack of my ioy,
That still I swim in th' Ocean of annoy.

Sonnet. XXIX.

[Cease eyes to cherrish with stil-flowing teares]

Cease eyes to cherrish with stil-flowing teares
the almost witherd rootes of dying griefe,
Dry vp your running Brooks, & dam your meares,
and let my body die for moist reliefe,
But death is deaffe, for well he knowes my paine,
my slakelesse payne hells horror doth exceede,
There is no hell so blacke as her disdaine
whence cares, sighes, sorrowes, and all griefes do breed,
In steede of sleep, (when day incloistred is
in dustie pryson of infernall Night)
With broad-wakt eyes I waile my miseries,
and if I winke, I feare some vgly sight;
Such fearefull dreames do haunt my troubled mind,
My Loue's the cause, cause shee is so vnkind.

Sonnet XXX.

[Hee that can count the candles of the skie]

Hee that can count the candles of the skie,
reckon the Sands whereon Pactolus flowes,
Or number nomberlesse small Attomie,
what strange, & hideous monsters Nilus showes,
What mishapt Beasts vast Affrica doth yield,
what rare-form'd fishes lyue in th' Ocean,
What colour'd flowers doe grow in Tempes field,
how many houres are since the world began,
Let him, none else, gyue iudgement of my griefe,
let him declare the beauties of my Loue,
And hee will say my paines passe all reliefe.
and hee will iudge her for a Saint aboue;
But as those things ther's no man can vnfolde,
So, nor her faire, nor my griefe may be tolde.

Sonnet XXXI.

[Faire Iuorie browe, the bord Loue banquets on]

Faire Iuorie browe, the bord Loue banquets on,
sweete lyps of Corrall hue, but silken softnes,
Faire Sunnes that shine when Phœbus eyes are gon,
sweet breath that breaths incomparable sweetnes
Faire cheekes of purest Roses red and white,
sweet tongue, contayning sweeter thing thē sweet,
O that my Muse could mount a loftie flight,
and were not all so forcelesse and vnmeete,
To blaze the beautie of thy seuerall shine,
and tell the sweetnes of thy sondry tast,
Able of none but of the Muses nine,
to be arightly honored and grac'd:
The first so faire, so bright, so purely precious,
The last so sweete, so balmy, so delicious.

Sonnet XXXII.

[The last so sweet, so balmy, so delicious]

The last so sweet, so balmy, so delicious,
lips, breath, & tongue, which I delight to drinke on
The first so faire, so bright, so purely precious,
Brow, eyes, & cheeks, which stil I ioy to think on.
But much more ioy to gaze, and aye to looke on,
those lilly rounds wc ceaseles hold their mooing,
From whence my prisoned eyes would nere be gon
which to such beauties are exceeding louing;
O, that I might but presse theyr dainty swelling,
and thence depart to which must now be hidden,
And which my crimson verse abstaines frō telling,
because by chast eares I am so forbidden;
There in the christall-paued vale of pleasure,
Lies locked vp a world of ritchest treasure.

Sonnet XXXIII.

[Thinking to close my ouer-watched eyes]

Thinking to close my ouer-watched eyes,
and stop the sluce of their vncessant flowing,
I layd me downe when each one gan to rise,
(new-risen Sol his flame-like coūt'nance shewing)
But griefe, though drowsie euer, yet neuer sleepes,
but still admits fresh entercourse of thought,
Duly the passage of each houre he keepes,
nor would he suffer me with sleepe be caught,
Some broken slumbers Morpheus had lent,
who greatly pittied my want of rest,
Whereat my hart a thousand thanks him sent,
and yow'd to serue him he was ready prest;
Let restlesse nights, daies, howres, doe their spight,
Ile loue her still, and loue for me shall fight.

Sonnet XXXIIII.

[Why should a Maydens hart be of that proofe]

Why should a Maydens hart be of that proofe,
as to resist the sharpe-point'd darte of loue?
My Mistres eye kills strongest man aloofe,
mee thinks he's weak that cannot quaile a Doue.
A louely Doue, so faire and so diuine,
able to make what Cynick so e're liueth,
Vpon his knees to beg of her bright eyne
one smiling looke, which life frō death reuiueth.
The frozen hart of cold Zenocrates,
had beene dissolued into hote desire,
Had Phryne cast such sun-beames from her eyes,
(such eyes are cause that my hart flames in fire.)
And yet with patience I must take my woe,
In that my deerest loue will haue it so.

Sonnet XXXV.

[End thys enchauntment (Loue) of my desires]

End thys enchauntment (Loue) of my desires,
let me no longer languish for thy loue,
Ioy not to see mee thus consume in fires,
but let my cruell paines thy hard hart moue,
And now at last, with pittifull regard,
eye me thy Louer, lorne for lack of thee,
VVhich dying, liues in hope of sweet reward,
which hate hath hetherto with-held from me,
Constant haue I been, still in fancie fast,
ordayn'd by heauens to dote vpon thy faire,
Nor will I e're, so long as life shall last,
say any's fairer, breathing vitall ayre;
But when the Ocean sands shall lye vnwet,
Then shal my soule to loue thee (Deere) forget.

Sonnet XXXVI.

[Long did I wish before I could attaine]

Long did I wish before I could attaine
the lookt for sight I so desir'd to see,
Too soone at last I saw what bred my baine,
and euer since hath sore tormented mee;
I sawe her selfe, whom had I neuer seene,
my wealth of blisse had not been turn'd to baile,
Greedy regard of her, my harts sole Queene,
hath chang'd my sommers sun, to winters haile.
How oft haue I, since that first fatall howre,
beheld her all-faire shape with begging eye,
Till shee (vnkind) hath kild me with a lowre,
and bad my humble-suing lookes, looke by.
O pitty mee (faire Loue) and highest fame
Shall blazed be in honour of thy name.

Sonnet XXXVII.

[Did I not loue her as a Louer ought]

Did I not loue her as a Louer ought,
with purest zeale, and faithfulnes of hart,
Then shee had cause to set my loue at nought,
and I had well deseru'd to feele this smart,
But holding her so deerely as I doe,
as a rare Iewell of most high esteeme,
Shee most vnkindly wounds and kills me, so
my nere-stain'd troth most causeles to misdeeme,
Neuer did one account of woman more,
then I of her, nor euer woman yet,
Respected lesse, or held in lesser store
her Louers vowes, then shee by mine doth set.
VVhat resteth then, but I dispaire and die,
That so my death may glut her ruthlesse eye.

Sonnet XXXVIII.

[Harken awhile (Diella) to a storie]

Harken awhile (Diella) to a storie,
that tells of beauty, loue, and great disdaine,
The last, causd by suspect; but shee was sorry
that tooke that cause, true loue so much to paine,
For when she knew his faith to be vnfained,
spotles, sincere, most true, and pure vnto her,
Shee ioy'd as if a kingdome shee had gained,
and lou'd him now as when he first did woo her.
I nere incurd suspition of my truth,
(fairest Diella) why wilt thou be cruell?
Impose some end to vndeserued ruth,
and learne by others how to quench hates fuell.
Reade all, my Deere, but chiefly marke the end,
And be to mee, as shee to him, a friend.