Sonnet XVI

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1. 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, […]...
2. Poem 90 IN youth before I waxed old. The blynd boy Venus baby, For want of cunning made me bold, In bitter byue to grope for honny. But when he saw me stung and cry, He tooke his wings and away did fly. As Diane hunted on a day, She chaunst to come where Cupid lay, His […]...
3. Sonnet LII SO oft as homeward I from her depart, I goe lyke one that hauing lost the field: Is prisoner led away with heauy hart, Despoyld of warlike armes and knowen shield. So doe I now my selfe a prisoner yeeld, To sorrow and to solitary paine: From presence of my dearest deare exylde, Longwhile alone […]...
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 XIX THe merry Cuckow, messenger of Spring, His trompet shrill hath thrise already sounded: That warnes al louers wayt vpon their king, Who now is comming forth with girland crouned. With noyse whereof the quyre of Byrds resounded Their anthemes sweet devized of loues prayse, That all the woods theyr ecchoes back rebounded, As if they […]...
6. 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 […]...
7. 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? […]...
8. I've got an arrow here I’ve got an arrow here. Loving the hand that sent it I the dart revere. Fell, they will say, in “skirmish”! Vanquished, my soul will know By but a simple arrow Sped by an archer’s bow....
9. 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 […]...
10. 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 […]...
11. 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 […]...
12. 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 […]...
13. 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 […]...
14. Sonnet XXVI SWeet is the Rose, but growes vpon a brere; Sweet is the Iunipere, but sharpe his bough; Sweet is the Eglantine, but pricketh nere; Sweet is the firbloome, but his braunches rough. Sweet is the Cypresse, but his rynd is tough, Sweet is the nut, but bitter is his pill; Sweet is the broome-flowre, but […]...
15. 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 […]...
16. 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, […]...
17. 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, […]...
18. 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 […]...
19. 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 […]...
20. 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 […]...
21. To a Lady SWEET rois of vertew and of gentilness, Delytsum lily of everie lustynes, Richest in bontie and in bewtie clear, And everie vertew that is wenit dear, Except onlie that ye are mercyless Into your garth this day I did persew; There saw I flowris that fresche were of hew; Baith quhyte and reid most lusty […]...
22. 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 happy lines, on which with starry light, Those lamping eyes will deigne sometimes to look And reade the sorrowes of my […]...
23. 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 […]...
24. 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 […]...
25. 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 […]...
26. 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 […]...
27. 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 […]...
28. 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 […]...
29. 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 […]...
30. 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 […]...
31. 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 […]...
32. Sonnet XII ONe day I sought with her hart-thrilling eies, To make a truce and termes to entertaine: All fearlesse then of so false enimies, Which sought me to entrap in treasons traine. So as I then disarmed did remaine, A wicked ambush which lay hidden long In the close couert of her guilefull eyen, Thence breaking […]...
33. 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 […]...
34. Sonnet XXXII The paynefull smith with force of feruent heat, The hardest yron soone doth mollify: That with his heauy sledge he can it beat, And fashion to what he it list apply. Yet cannot all these flames in which I fry, Her hart more harde then yron soft awhit; Ne all the playnts and prayers with […]...
35. Sonnet LIIII OF this worlds Theatre in which we stay, My loue lyke the Spectator ydly sits Beholding me that all the pageants play, Disguysing diuersly my troubled wits. Sometimes I ioy when glad occasion sits, And mask in myrth lyke to a Comedy: Soone after when my ioy to sorrow flits, I waile and make my […]...
36. Sonnet XVII THe glorious portraict of that Angels face, Made to amaze weake mens confused skil: And this worlds worthlesse glory to embase, What pen, what pencill can expresse her fill? For though he colours could deuize at will, And eke his learned hand at pleasure guide: Least trembling it his wormanship should spill, Yet many wondrous […]...
37. Sonnet XL MArk when she smiles with amiable cheare, And tell me whereto can ye lyken it: When on each eyelid sweetly doe appeare, An hundred Graces as in shade to sit. Lykest it seemeth in my simple wit Vnto the fayre sunshine in somers day: That when a dreadfull storme away is flit, Thrugh the broad […]...
38. 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, […]...
39. Sonnet XXXI Ah why hath nature to so hard a hart, Giuen so goodly giftes of beauties grace? Whose pryde depraues each other better part, And all those pretious ornaments deface. Sith to all other beastes of bloody race, A dreadfull countenaunce she giuen hath: That with theyr terrour al the rest may chace, And warne to […]...
40. 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 […]...