Sonnets :: :: University of Virginia Library

The earth a garden is wherein do grow
(With here and there a weed, they are but few,)
Flowers of rich fragrance and of every hue,
Matching in beauty Iris' splendid bow!
With these my daily life I fain would blend,
To perfect out my being; here to walk
With self-approving conscience; not to stalk
A spectre self-condemned; but to the end
Of this my pilgrimage, the good, the great,
With constant love pursue, so that whene'er
I summoned am to quit this nether sphere,
I may not dread to change my mortal state;
But keep a setting radiance, like the sun,
That shines serene till his great task be done.