Sonnet LXI

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1. Sonnet III THe souerayne beauty which I doo admyre, Witnesse the world how worthy to be prayzed: The light wherof hath kindled heauenly iyre, In my fraile spirit by her from basenesse raysed. That being now with her huge brightnesse dazed, Base thing I can no more endure to view: But looking still on her I stand […]...
2. Sonnet LXXXV THe world that cannot deeme of worthy things, When I doe praise her, say I doe but flatter: So does the Cuckow, when the Mauis sings, Begin his witlesse note apace to clatter. But they that skill not of so heauenly matter, All that they know not, enuy or admyre, Rather then enuy let them […]...
3. Sonnet LXVIII MOst glorious Lord of lyfe that on this day, Didst make thy triumph ouer death and sin: And hauing harrowd hell didst bring away, Captiuity thence captiue vs to win. This ioyous day, deare Lord, with ioy begin, And grant that we for whom thou didest dye Being with thy deare blood clene washt from […]...
4. 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 high thoghts more heauenly are, Not water; for her loue doth burne like fyre: Not ayre; for she is not so […]...
5. 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 […]...
6. Sonnet XXXIX SWeet smile, the daughter of the Queene of loue, Expressing all thy mothers powrefull art: With which she wonts to temper angry loue, When all the gods he threats with thundring dart. Sweet is thy vertue as thy selfe sweet art, For when on me thou shinedst late in sadnesse: A melting pleasance ran through […]...
7. 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 the bands, the which true loue doth tye, Without constraynt or dread of any ill: The gentle birde feeles no captiuity […]...
8. 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 I see, though in the clearest day, When others gaze vpon theyr shadowes vayne: But th’onely image of that heauenly ray, […]...
9. Poem 11 BVt if ye saw that which no eyes can see, The inward beauty of her liuely spright, Garnisht with heauenly guifts of high degree, Much more then would ye wonder at that sight, And stand astonisht lyke to those which red Medusaes mazeful hed. There dwels sweet loue and constant chastity, Vnspotted fayth and comely […]...
10. Sonnet LXX FResh spring the herald of loues mighty king, In whose cote armour richly are displayd, All sorts of flowers the which on earth do spring In goodly colours gloriously arrayd. Goe to my loue, where she is carelesse layd, Yet in her winters bowre not well awake: Tell her the ioyous time wil not be […]...
11. Sonnet XXIX See how the stubborne damzell doth depraue My simple meaning with disdaynfull scorne: And by the bay which I vnto her gaue, Accoumpts my selfe her captiue quite forlorne. The bay (quoth she) is of the victours borne, Yielded them by the vanquisht as theyr meeds, And they therewith doe poetes heads adorne, To sing […]...
12. Sonnet LXXIX MEn call you fayre, and you doe credit it, For that your selfe ye dayly such doe see: But the trew fayre, that is the gentle wit, And vertuous mind is much more praysd of me. For all the rest, how euer fayre it be, Shall turne to nought and loose that glorious hew: But […]...
13. 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 […]...
14. 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 […]...
15. Sonnet XLII THe loue which me so cruelly tormenteth, So pleasing is in my extreamest paine: That all the more my sorrow it augmenteth, The more I loue and doe embrace my bane. Ne doe I wish (for wishing were but vaine) To be acquit fro my continuall smart: But ioy her thrall for euer to remayne, […]...
16. Sonnet LXXXI Fayre is my loue, when her fayre golden heares, With the loose wynd ye wauing chance to marke: Fayre when the rose in her red cheekes appeares, Or in her eyes the fyre of loue does sparke. Fayre when her brest lyke a rich laden barke, With pretious merchandize she forth doth lay: Fayre whe[n] […]...
17. Sonnet LXXXII Ioy of my life, full oft for louing you I blesse my lot, that was so lucky placed: But then the more your owne mishap I rew, That are so much by so meane loue embased. For had the equall heuens so much you graced In this as in the rest, ye mote inuent Som […]...
18. Sonnet VI BE nought dismayd that her vnmoued mind, Doth still persist in her rebellious pride: Such loue not lyke to lusts of baser kynd, The harder wonne, the firmer will abide. The durefull Oake, whose sap is not yet dride, Is long ere it conceiue the kindling fyre: But when it once doth burne, it doth […]...
19. Sonnet XXX MY loue is lyke to yse, and I to fyre; How comes it then that this her cold so great Is not dissolu’d through my so hot desyre, But harder growes the more I her intreat? Or how comes it that my exceeding heat Is not delayd by her hart frosen cold: But that I […]...
20. 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 […]...
21. Sonnet LXIX THe famous warriors of the anticke world, Vsed Trophees to erect in stately wize: In which they would the records haue enrold, Of theyr great deeds and valarous emprize. What trophee then shall I most fit deuize, In which I may record the memory Of my loues conquest, peerelesse beauties prise, Adorn’d with honour, loue, […]...
22. 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 […]...
23. 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 at length out of the inner part, In which thou lurkest lyke to vipers brood: And seeke some succour both to […]...
24. Sonnet IIII NEw yeare forth looking out of Ianus gate, Doth seeme to promise hope of new delight: And bidding th’old Adieu, his passed date Bids all old thoughts to die in dumpish spright. And calling forth out of sad Winters night, Fresh loue, that long hath slept in cheerlesse bower: Wils him awake, and soone about […]...
25. Holy Sonnet IX: If Poisonous Minerals, And If That Tree If poisonous minerals, and if that tree Whose fruit threw death on else immortal us, If lecherous goats, if serpents envious Cannot be damned, alas, why should I be? Why should intent or reason, born in me, Make sins, else equal, in me more heinous? And Mercy being easy, and glorious To God; in his […]...
26. Sonnet XXXVIII: Sitting Alone, Love Sitting alone, Love bids me go and write; Reason plucks back, commanding me to stay, Boasting that she doth still direct the way, Or else Love were unable to endite. Love, growing angry, vexed at the spleen And scorning Reason’s maimed argument, Straight taxeth Reason, wanting to invent, Where she with Love conversing hath not […]...
27. Poem 2 EArly before the worlds light giuing lampe, His golden beame vpon the hils doth spred, Hauing disperst the nights vnchearefull dampe, Doe ye awake and with fresh lusty hed, Go to the bowre of my beloued loue, My truest turtle doue Bid her awake; for Hymen is awake, And long since ready forth his maske […]...
28. 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 […]...
29. Sonnet LXXX AFter so long a race as I haue run Through Faery land, which those six books co[m]pile Giue leaue to rest me being halfe fordonne, And gather to my selfe new breath awhile. Then as a steed refreshed after toyle, Out of my prison I will breake anew: And stoutly will that second worke assoyle, […]...
30. 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 […]...
31. Sonnet XLIII SHall I then silent be or shall I speake? And if I speake, her wrath renew I shall: And if I silent be, my hart will breake, Or choked be with ouerflowing gall. What tyranny is this both my hart to thrall, And eke my toung with proud restraint to tie? That nether I may […]...
32. Poem 9 LOe where she comes along with portly pace, Lyke Phoebe from her chamber of the East, Arysing forth to run her mighty race, Clad all in white, that seemes a virgin best. So well it her beseemes that ye would weene Some angell she had beene. Her long loose yellow locks lyke golden wyre, Sprinckled […]...
33. Sonnet X VNrighteous Lord of loue what law is this, That me thou makest thus tormented be: The whiles she lordeth in licentious blisse Of her freewill, scorning both thee and me. See how the Tyrannesse doth ioy to see The huge massacres which her eyes do make: And humbled harts brings captiues vnto thee, That thou […]...
34. Poem 16 AH when will this long vveary day haue end, And lende me leaue to come vnto my loue? Hovv slovvly do the houres theyr numbers spend? How slowly does sad Time his feathers moue? Hast thee O fayrest Planet to thy home Within the Westerne some: Thy tyred steedes long since haue need of rest. […]...
35. Sonnet LX THey that in course of heauenly spheares are skild, To euery planet point his sundry yeare: In which her circles voyage is fulfild, As Mars in three score yeares doth run his spheare So since the winged God his planet cleare, Began in me to moue, one yeare is spent: The which doth longer vnto […]...
36. Poem 1 YE learned sisters which haue oftentimes Beene to me ayding, others to adorne: Whom ye thought worthy of your gracefull rymes, That euen the greatest did not greatly scorne To heare theyr names sung in your simply layes, But ioyed in theyr prayse. And when ye lift your owne mishaps to mourne, Which death, or […]...
37. Poem 5 WAke now my loue, awake; for it is time, The Rosy Morne long since left Tithones bed, All ready to her siluer coche to clyme, And Phoebus gins to shew his glorious hed. Hark how the cheerefull birds do chaunt theyr laies And carroll of loues praise. The merry Larke hir mattins sings aloft, The […]...
38. Cloris, it is not thy disdaine CLORIS, it is not thy disdaine Can ever cover with dispaire Or in cold ashes hide that care Which I have fedd with soe long paine, I may perhaps myne eyes refraine 5 And fruiteless wordes noe more impart, But yet still serve, still serve thee in my hearte. What though I spend my haplesse […]...
39. Sonnet LVI: When Like an Eaglet When like an eaglet I first found my Love, For that the virtue I thereof would know, Upon the nest I set it forth to prove If it were of that kingly kind or no; But it no sooner say my Sun appear, But on her rays with open eyes it stood, To show that […]...
40. Sonnet LXXI I Ioy to see how in your drawen work, Your selfe vnto the Bee ye doe compare; And me vnto the Spyder that doth lurke, In close awayt to catch her vnaware. Right so to your selfe were caught in cunning snare Of a deare foe, and thralled to his loue: In whose streight bands […]...