Sonnet LXXXIIII

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1. 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 […]...
2. Sonnet LXXIII BEing my selfe captyued here in care, My hart, whom none with seruile bands can tye: But the fayre tresses of your golden hayre, Breaking his prison forth to you doth fly. Lyke as a byrd that in ones hand doth spy Desired food, to it doth make his flight: Euen so my hart, that […]...
3. 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 […]...
4. Sonnet LIX THrise happie she, that is so well assured Vnto her selfe and setled so in hart: That nether will for better be allured, Ne feard with worse to any chaunce to start, But like a steddy ship doth strongly part The raging waues and keepes her course aright: Ne ought for tempest doth from it […]...
5. 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, […]...
6. Sonnet XLV LEaue lady, in your glasse of christall clene, Your goodly selfe for euermore to vew: And in my selfe, my inward selfe I meane, Most liuely lyke behold your semblant trew. Within my hart, though hardly it can shew, Thing so diuine to vew of earthly eye: The fayre Idea of your celestiall hew, And […]...
7. 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 weene. That goodly Idoll now so gay beseene, Shall doffe her fleshes borowd fayre attyre: And be forgot as it had […]...
8. 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 […]...
9. 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, […]...
10. Sonnet IX LOng-while I sought to what I might compare Those powrefull eies, which lighte[n] my dark spright, Yet find I nought on earth to which I dare Resemble th’ymage of their goodly light. Not to the Sun: for they doo shine by night; Nor to the Moone: for they are changed neuer; Nor to the Starres: […]...
11. 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 […]...
12. 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 […]...
13. 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 […]...
14. Sonnet LI DOe I not see that fayrest ymages Of hardest Marble are of purpose made? For that they should endure through many ages, Ne let theyr famous moniments to fade. Why then doe I, vntrainde in louers trade, Her hardnes blame which I should more co[m]mend? Sith neuer ought was excellent assayde, Which was not hard […]...
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 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 […]...
17. 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 […]...
18. Sonnet LXXXVII SInce I did leaue the presence of my loue, Many long weary dayes I haue outworne: And many nights, that slowly seemd to moue, Theyr sad protract from euening vntill morne. For when as day the heauen doth adorne, I wish that night the noyous day would end: And when as night hath vs of […]...
19. Sonnet LVI FAyre ye be sure, but cruell and vnkind, As is a Tygre that with greedinesse Hunts after bloud, when he by chance doth find A feeble beast, doth felly him oppresse. Fayre be ye sure but proud and pittilesse, As is a storme, that all things doth prostrate: Finding a tree alone all comfortlesse, Beats […]...
20. 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 […]...
21. 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 […]...
22. Sonnet XLIIII When those renoumed noble Peres of Greece, Thrugh stubborn pride amongst the[m]selues did iar Forgetfull of the famous golden fleece, Then Orpheus with his harp theyr strife did bar. But this continuall cruell ciuill warre, The which my selfe against my selfe doe make: Whilest my weak powres of passions warreid arre. No skill can […]...
23. 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 […]...
24. Sonnet XV YE tradefull Merchants that with weary toyle, Do seeke most pretious things to make your gain: And both the Indias of their treasures spoile, What needeth you to seeke so farre in vaine? For loe my loue doth in her selfe containe All this worlds riches that may farre be found, If Saphyres, loe her […]...
25. Sonnet LXVI TO all those happy blessings which ye haue, With plenteous hand by heauen vpon you thrown: This one disparagement they to you gaue, That ye your loue lent to so meane a one. Yee whose high worths surpassing paragon, Could not on earth haue found one fit for mate, Ne but in heauen matchable to […]...
26. Sonnet XXXVI TEll me when shall these wearie woes haue end, Or shall their ruthlesse torment neuer cease: But al my dayes in pining languor spend, Without hope of aswagement or release. Is there no meanes for me to purchace peace, Or make agreement with her thrilling eyes: But that their cruelty doth still increace, And dayly […]...
27. Sonnet LXXXVI VEnemous toung tipt with vile adders sting, Of that selfe kynd with which the Furies tell Theyr snaky heads doe combe, from which a spring Of poysoned words and spitefull speeches well. Let all the plagues and horrid paines of hell, Vpon thee fall for thine accursed hyre: That with false forged lyes, which thou […]...
28. Sonnet LVIII By Her That Is Most Assured To Her Selfe WEake is th’assurance that weake flesh reposeth, In her owne powre and scorneth others ayde: That soonest fals when as she most supposeth, Her selfe assurd, and is of nought affrayd. All flesh is frayle, and all her strength vnstayd, Like a vaine bubble blowen vp with ayre: Deuouring tyme & changeful chance haue prayd, […]...
29. Sonnet XIV: Alas, Have I Not Alas, have I not pain enough, my friend, Upon whose breast a fiercer gripe doth tire, Than did on him who first stole down the fire, While Love on me doth all his quiver spend, But with your rhubarb words you must contend, To grieve me worse, in saying that desire Doth plunge my well-form’d […]...
30. Sonnet XI DAyly when I do seeke and sew for peace, And hostages doe offer for my truth: She cruell warriour doth her selfe addresse, To battell, and the weary war renew’th. Ne wilbe moou’d with reason or with rewth, To graunt small respit to my restlesse toile: But greedily her fell intent poursewth, Of my poore […]...
31. Sonnet 53: What is your substance, whereof are you made What is your substance, whereof are you made, That millions of strange shadows on you tend? Since everyone hath, every one, one shade, And you, but one, can every shadow lend. Describe Adonis, and the counterfeit Is poorly imitated after you; On Helen’s cheek all art of beauty set, And you in Grecian tires are […]...
32. Sonnet L LOng languishing in double malady, Of my harts wound and of my bodies greife: There came to me a leach that would apply Fit medicines for my bodies best reliefe. Vayne man (quod I) that hast but little priefe: In deep discouery of the mynds disease, Is not the hart of all the body chiefe? […]...
33. Sonnet LIII What is your substance, whereof are you made, That millions of strange shadows on you tend? Since every one hath, every one, one shade, And you, but one, can every shadow lend. Describe Adonis, and the counterfeit Is poorly imitated after you; On Helen’s cheek all art of beauty set, And you in Grecian tires […]...
34. Sonnet LXXIX Whilst I alone did call upon thy aid, My verse alone had all thy gentle grace, But now my gracious numbers are decay’d And my sick Muse doth give another place. I grant, sweet love, thy lovely argument Deserves the travail of a worthier pen, Yet what of thee thy poet doth invent He robs […]...
35. Sonnet 79: Whilst I alone did call upon thy aid Whilst I alone did call upon thy aid, My verse alone had all thy gentle grace, But now my gracious numbers are decayed, And my sick Muse doth give an other place. I grant, sweet love, thy lovely argument Deserves the travail of a worthier pen, Yet what of thee thy poet doth invent He […]...
36. Sonnet LIII THe Panther knowing that his spotted hyde, Doth please all beasts but that his looks the[m] fray: Within a bush his dreadfull head doth hide, To let them gaze whylest he on them may pray. Right so my cruell fayre with me doth play, For with the goodly semblant of her hew: She doth allure […]...
37. Sonnet XLVIII INnocent paper whom too cruell hand, Did make the matter to auenge her yre: And ere she could thy cause wel vnderstand, Did sacrifize vnto the greedy fyre. Well worthy thou to haue found better hyre, Then so bad end for hereticks ordayned: Yet heresy nor treason didst conspire, But plead thy maisters cause vniustly […]...
38. 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 […]...
39. 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 […]...
40. Sonnet XXI So is it not with me as with that Muse Stirr’d by a painted beauty to his verse, Who heaven itself for ornament doth use And every fair with his fair doth rehearse Making a couplement of proud compare, With sun and moon, with earth and sea’s rich gems, With April’s first-born flowers, and all […]...