Sonnet I

Related poetry:

1. Sonnet XXXV MY hungry eyes through greedy couetize, Still to behold the obiect of their paine: With no contentment can themselues suffize, But hauing pine and hauing not complaine. For lacking it they cannot lyfe sustayne, And hauing it they gaze on it the more: In their amazement lyke Narcissus vaine Whose eyes him staru’d: so plenty […]...
2. Sonnet LXXXIII MY hungry eyes, through greedy couetize, Still to behold the obiect of theyr payne: With no contentment can themselues suffize, But hauing pine, and hauing not complayne For lacking it, they cannot lyfe sustayne, And seeing it, they gaze on it the more: In theyr amazement lyke Marcissus vayne Whose eyes him staru’d: so plenty […]...
3. Sonnet VII Fayre eyes, the myrrour of my mazed hart, What wondrous vertue is contaynd in you The which both lyfe and death forth fro[m] you dart Into the obiect of your mighty view? For when ye mildly looke with louely hew, Then is my soule with life and loue inspired: But when ye lowre, or looke […]...
4. Sonnet LXVII Lyke as a huntsman after weary chace, Seeing the game from him escapt away: Sits downe to rest him in some shady place, With panting hounds beguiled of their pray. So after long pursuit and vaine assay, When I all weary had the chace forsooke, The gentle deare returnd the selfe-same way, Thinking to quench […]...
5. Poem 13 Behold whiles she before the altar stands Hearing the holy priest that to her speakes And blesseth her with his two happy hands, How the red roses flush vp in her cheekes, And the pure snow with goodly vermill stayne, Like crimsin dyde in grayne, That euen th’Angels which continually, About the sacred Altare doe […]...
6. 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 then shall I or heauen or her obay, The heauens know best what is the best for me: But as she […]...
7. Sonnet 52: So am I as the rich whose blessèd key So am I as the rich whose blessèd key Can bring him to his sweet up-lockèd treasure, The which he will not every hour survey, For blunting the fine point of seldom pleasure. Therefore are feasts so solemn and so rare, Since, seldom coming, in that long year set, Like stones of worth they thinly […]...
8. Sonnet XVI But wherefore do not you a mightier way Make war upon this bloody tyrant, Time? And fortify yourself in your decay With means more blessed than my barren rhyme? Now stand you on the top of happy hours, And many maiden gardens yet unset With virtuous wish would bear your living flowers, Much liker than […]...
9. Sonnet 16: But wherefore do not you a mightier way But wherefore do not you a mightier way Make war upon this bloody tyrant, Time, And fortify your self in your decay With means more blessèd than my barren rhyme? Now stand you on the top of happy hours, And many maiden gardens yet unset, With virtuous wish would bear you living flowers, Much liker […]...
10. Poem 23 And ye high heauens, the temple of the gods, In which a thousand torches flaming bright Doe burne, that to vs wretched earthly clods: In dreadful darknesse lend desired light; And all ye powers which in the same remayne, More then we men can fayne, Poure out your blessing on vs plentiously, And happy influence […]...
11. Sonnet LXXXIX LYke as the Culuer on the bared bough, Sits mourning for the absence of her mate; And in her songs sends many a wishfull vew, For his returne that seemes to linger late. So I alone now left disconsolate, Mourne to my selfe the absence of my loue: And wandring here and there all desolate, […]...
12. Sonnet LXXII OFt when my spirit doth spred her bolder winges, In mind to mount vp to the purest sky: It down is weighd with thoght of earthly things: And clogd with burden of mortality, Where when that souerayne beauty it doth spy, Resembling heauens glory in her light: Drawne with sweet pleasures bayt, it back doth […]...
13. Sonnet XXVIII THe laurell leafe, which you this day doe weare, Guies me great hope of your relenting mynd: For since it is the badg which I doe beare, Ye bearing it doe seeme to me inclind: The powre thereof, which ofte in me I find, Let it lykewise your gentle brest inspire With sweet infusion, and […]...
14. Sonnet LIII: Clear Anker Another to the River Anker Clear Anker, on whose silver-sanded shore My soul-shrin’d saint, my fair Idea, lies, O blessed brook, whose milk-white swans adore The crystal stream refined by her eyes, Where sweet myrrh-breathing Zephyr in the Spring Gently distils his nectar-dropping showers, Where nightingales in Arden sit and sing Among the dainty dew-impearled […]...
15. Sonnet XCII But do thy worst to steal thyself away, For term of life thou art assured mine, And life no longer than thy love will stay, For it depends upon that love of thine. Then need I not to fear the worst of wrongs, When in the least of them my life hath end. I see […]...
16. Sonnet 92: But do thy worst to steal thy self away But do thy worst to steal thy self away, For term of life thou art assurèd mine, And life no longer than thy love will stay, For it depends upon that love of thine. Then need I not to fear the worst of wrongs, When in the least of them my life hath end; I […]...
17. Sonnet LXI THe glorious image of the makers beautie, My souerayne faynt, the Idoll of my thought, Dare not henceforth aboue the bounds of dewtie, T’accuse of pride, or rashly blame for ought. For being as she is diuinely wrought, And of the brood of Angels heuenly borne: And with the crew of blessed Saynts vpbrought, Each […]...
18. Sonnet LXIIII COmming to kisse her lyps, (such grace I found) Me seemd I smelt a gardin of sweet flowres: That dainty odours from them threw around For damzels fit to decke their louers bowres. Her lips did smell lyke vnto Gillyflowers, Her ruddy cheekes lyke vnto Roses red: Her snowy browes lyke budded Bellamoures, Her louely […]...
19. A Song On The Baths What Angel stirrs this happy Well, Some Muse from thence come shew’t me, One of those naked Graces tell That Angels are for beauty: The Lame themselves that enter here Come Angels out againe, And Bodies turne to Soules all cleere, All made for joy, noe payne. Heate never was so sweetely mett With moist […]...
20. Quies This is another of our ancient loves. Pass and be silent, Rullus, for the day Hath lacked a something since this lady passed; Hath lacked a something. ‘Twas but marginal....
21. Sonnet XXIII Penelope for her Vlisses sake, Deuiz’d a Web her wooers to deceaue: In which the worke that she all day did make The same at night she did againe vnreaue, Such subtile craft my Damzell doth conceaue, Th’importune suit of my desire to shonne: For all that I in many dayes doo weaue, In one […]...
22. Sonnet VIII MOre then most faire, full of the liuing fire, Kindled aboue vnto the maker neere: No eies buy ioyes, in which al powers conspire, That to the world naught else be counted deare. Thrugh your bright beams doth not ye blinded guest, Shoot out his darts to base affections wound: But Angels come to lead […]...
23. Sonnet V RVdely thou wrongest my deare harts desire, In finding fault with her too portly pride: The thing which I doo most in her admire, Is of the world vnworthy most enuide. For in those lofty lookes is close implide, Scorn of base things, & sdeigne of soule dishonor: Thretning rash eies which gaze on her […]...
24. Sonnet XXXIIII Lyke as a ship that through the Ocean wyde, By conduct of some star doth make her way. Whenas a storme hath dimd her trusty guyde. Out of her course doth wander far astray: So I whose star, that wont with her bright ray, Me to direct, with cloudes is ouercast, Doe wander now in […]...
25. Sonnet XIII IN that proud port, which her so goodly graceth, Whiles her faire face she reares vp to the skie: And to the ground her eie lids low embaseth, Most goodly temperature ye may descry, Myld humblesse mixt with awfull maiesty, For looking on the earth whence she was borne: Her minde remembreth her mortalitie, What […]...
26. Sonnet XXI WAs it the worke of nature or of Art? Which tempred so the feature of her face: That pride and meeknesse mixt by equall part, Doe both appeare t’adorne her beauties grace. For with mild pleasance, which doth pride displace, She to her loues doth lookers eyes allure: & with sterne countenance back again doth […]...
27. Sonnet XVIII THe rolling wheele that runneth often round, The hardest steele in tract of time doth teare: And drizling drops that often doe redound, The firmest flint doth in continuance weare. Yet cannot I with many a dropping teare, And long intreaty soften her hard hart: That she will once vouchsafe my plaint to heare, Or […]...
28. Sonnet LXXIIII MOst happy letters fram’d by skilfull trade, With which that happy name was first defynd: The which three times thrise happy hath me made, With guifts of body, fortune and of mind. The first my being to me gaue by kind, From mothers womb deriu’d by dew descent, The second is my souereigne Queene most […]...
29. Sonnet 05 Seeing you have not come with me, nor spent This day’s suggestive beauty as we ought, I have gone forth alone and been content To make you mistress only of my thought. And I have blessed the fate that was so kind In my life’s agitations to include This moment’s refuge where my sense can […]...
30. Sonnet XLVII TRust not the treason of those smyling lookes, Vntill ye haue theyr guylefull traynes well tryde: For they are lyke but vnto golden hookes, That from the foolish fish theyr bayts doe hyde: So she with flattring smyles weake harts doth guyde, Vnto her loue and tempte to theyr decay, Whome being caught she kills […]...
31. Holy Sonnet VII: At The Round Earth's Imagined Corners Blow At the round earth’s imagined corners blow Your trumpets, angels, and arise, arise From death, you numberless infinities Of souls, and to your scattered bodies go, All whom the flood did, and fire shall, overthrow, All whom war, dearth, age, agues, tyrannies, Despair, law, chance, hath slain, and you whose eyes Shall behold God, and […]...
32. Sonnet VIII: There's Nothing Grieves Me There’s nothing grieves me, but that Age should haste, That in my days I may not see thee old, That where those two clear sparkling eyes are plac’d Only two loop-holes then I might behold; That lovely, arched, ivory, polish’d brow Defac’d with wrinkles that I might but see; Thy dainty hair, so curl’d and […]...
33. Sonnet IV: Bright Star of Beauty Bright star of beauty, on whose eyelids sit A thousand nymph-like and enamour’d Graces, The Goddesses of Memory and Wit, Which there in order take their several places; In whose dear bosom sweet delicious Love Lays down his quiver, which he once did bear, Since he that blessed Paradise did prove, And leaves his mother’s […]...
34. Sonnet XLV: Muses, Which Sadly Sit Muses, which sadly sit about my chair, Drown’d in the tears extorted by my lines, With heavy sighs whilst thus I break the air, Painting my passions in these sad designs, Since she disdains to bless my happy verse, The strong-built trophies to her living fame, Ever henceforth my bosom be your hearse, Wherein the […]...
35. Sonnet LII So am I as the rich, whose blessed key Can bring him to his sweet up-locked treasure, The which he will not every hour survey, For blunting the fine point of seldom pleasure. Therefore are feasts so solemn and so rare, Since, seldom coming, in the long year set, Like stones of worth they thinly […]...
36. Sonnet 63: Against my love shall be, as I am now Against my love shall be, as I am now, With Time’s injurious hand crushed and o’erworn; When hours have drained his blood and filled his brow With lines and wrinkles; when his youthful morn Hath travelled on to age’s steepy night, And all those beauties whereof now he’s king Are vanishing, or vanished out of […]...
37. Sonnet LXIII Against my love shall be, as I am now, With Time’s injurious hand crush’d and o’er-worn; When hours have drain’d his blood and fill’d his brow With lines and wrinkles; when his youthful morn Hath travell’d on to age’s steepy night, And all those beauties whereof now he’s king Are vanishing or vanish’d out of […]...
38. Sonnet LXXXIV: Highway Highway, since you my chief Parnassus be, And that my Muse, to some ears not unsweet, Tempers her words to trampling horses’ feet More oft than to a chamber melody. Now, blessed you bear onward blessed me To her, where I my heart, safe-left, shall meet: My Muse and I must you of duty greet […]...
39. Sonnet Not with vain tears, when we’re beyond the sun, We’ll beat on the substantial doors, nor tread Those dusty high-roads of the aimless dead Plaintive for Earth; but rather turn and run Down some close-covered by-way of the air, Some low sweet alley between wind and wind, Stoop under faint gleams, thread the shadows, find […]...
40. Sonnet LXIII AFter long stormes and tempests sad assay, Which hardly I endured heretofore: In dread of death and daungerous dismay, With which my silly barke was tossed sore. I doe at length descry the happy shore, In which I hope ere long for to arryue, Fayre soyle it seemes from far & fraught with store Of […]...