Sonnet LV
SO oft as I her beauty doe behold, And therewith doe her cruelty compare: I maruaile of what substance was the mould The which her made attonce so cruell faire. Not earth; for her
Poem 4
YE Nymphes of Mulla which with carefull heed, The siluer scaly trouts doe tend full well, And greedy pikes which vse therein to feed, (Those trouts and pikes all others doo excell) And ye
Poem 94
NAthlesse the cruell boy not so content, Would needs the fly pursue: And in his hand with heedlesse hardiment, Him caught for to subdue. But when on it he hasty hand did lay, The
Poem 97
THe wanton boy was shortly wel recured, Of that his malady: But he soone after fresh againe enured, His former cruelty. And since that time he wounded hath my selfe With his sharpe dart
Sonnet II
VNquiet thought, whom at the first I bred, Of th’inward bale of my loue pined hart: And sithens haue with sighes and sorrowes fed, Till greater then my wombe thou woxen art. Breake forth
Sonnet 30 (Fire And Ice)
My love is like to ice, and I to fire: How comes it then that this her cold so great Is not dissolv’d through my so hot desire, But harder grows, the more I
Sonnet LXXXVIII
SInce I haue lackt the comfort of that light, The which was wont to lead my thoughts astray: I wander as in darkenesse of the night, Affrayd of euery dangers least dismay. Ne ought
Sonnet I
HAppy ye leaues when as those lilly hands, Which hold my life in their dead doing might Shall handle you and hold in loues soft bands, Lyke captiues trembling at the victors sight. And
Poem 15
RIng ye the bels, ye yong men of the towne, And leaue your wonted labors for this day: This day is holy; doe ye write it dovvne, That ye for euer it remember may.
Poem 3
BRing with you all the Nymphes that you can heare Both of the riuers and the forrests greene: And of the sea that neighbours to her neare, Al with gay girlands goodly wel beseene.
Sonnet XX
IN vaine I seeke and sew to her for grace, And doe myne humbled hart before her poure: The whiles her foot she in my necke doth place, And tread my life downe in
Sonnet XLVI
WHen my abodes prefixed time is spent, My cruell fayre streight bids me wend my way: But then fro[m] heauen most hideous stormes are sent As willing me against her will to stay. Whom
Sonnet XXVII
FAire proud now tell me why should faire be proud; Sith all worlds glorie is but drosse vncleane: And in the shade of death it selfe shall shroud, How euer now thereof ye little
Sonnet LXV
THe doubt which ye misdeeme, fayre loue, is vaine That fondly feare to loose your liberty, When loosing one, two liberties ye gayne, And make him bond that bondage earst dyd fly. Sweet be
Poem 92
VPon a day as loue lay sweetly slumbring, All in his mothers lap: A gentle Bee with his loud trumpet murm’ring, About him flew by hap. Whereof when he was wakened with the noyse,