Sonnet XIII

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1. 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 […]...
2. Sonnet XXIIII WHen I behold that beauties wonderment, And rare perfection of each goodly part; Of natures skill the only complement, I honor and admire the makers art. But when I feele the bitter balefull smart, Which her fayre eyes vnwares doe worke in mee: That death out of theyr shiny beames doe dart, I thinke that […]...
3. 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 […]...
4. 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 […]...
5. 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 […]...
6. 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 […]...
7. 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 […]...
8. 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 […]...
9. 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 […]...
10. 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 […]...
11. 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 […]...
12. 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, […]...
13. Sonnet XXII THis holy season fit to fast and pray, Men to deuotion ought to be inclynd: Therefore, I lykewise on so holy day, For my sweet Saynt some seruice fit will find. Her temple fayre is built within my mind, In which her glorious ymage placed is, On which my thoughts doo day and night attend […]...
14. Sonnet XIII I fancied, while you stood conversing there, Superb, in every attitude a queen, Her ermine thus Boadicea bare, So moved amid the multitude Faustine. My life, whose whole religion Beauty is, Be charged with sin if ever before yours A lesser feeling crossed my mind than his Who owning grandeur marvels and adores. Nay, rather […]...
15. 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 […]...
16. Sonnet XIII: Letters and Lines To the Shadow Letters and lines we see are soon defac’d, Metals do waste and fret with canker’s rust, The diamond shall once consume to dust, And freshest colors with foul stains disgrac’d; Paper and ink can paint but naked words, To write with blood of force offends the sight; And if with tears I […]...
17. Sonnet XIII: Phoebus Was Judge Phoebus was judge between Jove, Mars, and Love, Of those three gods, whose arms the fairest were: Jove’s golden shield did eagle sables bear, Whose talons held young Ganymede above: But in vert field Mars bare a golden spear, Which through a bleeding heart his point did shove: Each had his crest; Mars carried Venus’ […]...
18. 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 […]...
19. Holy Sonnet XIII: What If This Present Were The World's Last Night? What if this present were the world’s last night? Mark in my heart, O soul, where thou dost dwell, The picture of Christ crucified, and tell Whether that countenance can thee affright, Tears in his eyes quench the amazing light, Blood fills his frowns, which from his pierced head fell. And can that tongue adjudge […]...
20. Sonnet XIII: Bring, Brick to Deck My Brow Bring, bring to deck my brow, ye Sylvan girls, A roseate wreath; nor for my waving hair The costly band of studded gems prepare, Of sparkling crysolite or orient pearls: Love, o’er my head his canopy unfurls, His purple pinions fan the whisp’ring air; Mocking the golden sandal, rich and rare, Beneath my feet the […]...
21. 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 […]...
22. 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 […]...
23. Sonnet LXXVII Was it a dreame, or did I see it playne, A goodly table of pure yvory: All spred with iuncats, fit to entertayne, The greatest Prince with pompous roialty. Mongst which there in a siluer dish did ly, Twoo golden apples of vnualewd price: Far passing those which Hercules came by, Or those which Atalanta […]...
24. Sonnet VII The strong man’s hand, the snow-cool head of age, The certain-footed sympathies of youth – These, and that lofty passion after truth, Hunger unsatisfied in priest or sage Or the great men of former years, he needs That not unworthily would dare to sing (Hard task!) black care’s inevitable ring Settling with years upon the […]...
25. 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, […]...
26. 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 […]...
27. The Chimney-Sweeper's Song Hath Christmas furr’d your Chimneys, Or have the maides neglected, Doe Fire-balls droppe from your Chimney’s toppe, The Pidgin is respected, Looke up with feare and horror, O how my mistresse wonders! The streete doth crie, the newes doth flie, The boyes they thinke it thunders. Then up I rush with my pole and brush, […]...
28. 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, […]...
29. 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 […]...
30. 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 […]...
31. 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 the lowly floure. And yet the Lyon that is Lord of power, And reigneth ouer euery beast in field: In his […]...
32. 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 […]...
33. 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: […]...
34. 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 […]...
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. Sonnet LVII SWeet warriour when shall I haue peace with you? High time it is, this warre now ended were: Which I no lenger can endure to sue, Ne your incessant battry more to beare: So weake my powres, so sore my wounds appeare, That wonder is how I should liue a iot, Seeing my hart through […]...
37. 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 […]...
38. Sonnet XIIII REtourne agayne my forces late dismayd, Vnto the siege by you abandon’d quite, Great shame it is to leaue like one afrayd, So fayre a peece for one repulse so light. Gaynst such strong castles needeth greater might, Then those small forts which ye were wont belay, Such haughty mynds enur’d to hardy fight, Disdayne […]...
39. Laws XIII Then a lawyer said, “But what of our Laws, master?” And he answered: You delight in laying down laws, Yet you delight more in breaking them. Like children playing by the ocean who build sand-towers with constancy and then destroy them with laughter. But while you build your sand-towers the ocean brings more sand to […]...
40. 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 […]...