Sonnet XXIII

Related poetry:

1. 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 […]...
2. 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] […]...
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 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 […]...
5. Sonnet XXIII: To Aetna's Scorching Sands To AEtna’s scorching sands my Phaon flies! False Youth! can other charms attractive prove? Say, can Sicilian loves thy passions move, Play round thy heart, and fix thy fickle eyes, While in despair the Lesbian Sappho dies? Has Spring for thee a crown of poppies wove, Or dost thou languish in th’ Idalian grove, Whose […]...
6. 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 […]...
7. 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 […]...
8. Sonnet XXIII Full many a glorious morning have I seen Flatter the mountain-tops with sovereign eye, Kissing with golden face the meadows green, Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy; Anon permit the basest clouds to ride With ugly rack on his celestial face, And from the forlorn world his visage hide, Stealing unseen to west with this […]...
9. An Ancient Gesture I thought, as I wiped my eyes on the corner of my apron: Penelope did this too. And more than once: you can’t keep weaving all day And undoing it all through the night; Your arms get tired, and the back of your neck gets tight; And along towards morning, when you think it will […]...
10. Sonnet 19 XIX When I consider how my light is spent, Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide, And that one talent which is death to hide Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent To serve therewith my Maker, and present My true account, lest He returning chide, “Doth God exact day-labour, […]...
11. Sonnet 16 XVI When I consider how my light is spent, E’re half my days, in this dark world and wide, And that one Talent which is death to hide, Lodg’d with me useless, though my Soul more bent To serve therewith my Maker, and present My true account, least he returning chide, Doth God exact day-labour, […]...
12. Sonnet XXXIII GReat wrong I doe, I can it not deny, To that most sacred Empresse my dear dred, Not finishing her Queene of faery, That mote enlarge her liuing prayses dead: But lodwick, this of grace to me aread: Doe ye not thinck th’accomplishment of it, Sufficient worke for one mans simple head, All were it […]...
13. Sonnet XXIII: The Curious Wits The curious wits seeing dull pensiveness Bewray itself in my long settled eyes, Whence those same fumes of melancholy rise, With idle pains, and missing aim, do guess. Some that know how my spring I did address, Deem that my Muse some fruit of knowledge plies: Others, because the Prince my service tries, Think that […]...
14. 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 […]...
15. 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 […]...
16. 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 […]...
17. 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 […]...
18. 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 […]...
19. Sonnet 81 Fair is my love, when her fair golden hears With the loose wind the waving chance to mark: Fair when the rose in her red cheeks appears, Or in her eyes the fire of love does spark. Fair when her breast like a rich laden bark With precious merchandise she forth doth lay: Fair when […]...
20. Holy Sonnet I: Tho Has Made Me Tho has made me, and shall thy work decay? Repair me now, for now mine end doth haste; I run to death, and death meets me as fast, And all my pleasures are like yesterday. I dare not move my dim eyes any way, Despair behind, and death before doth cast Such terror, and my […]...
21. 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 […]...
22. 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 […]...
23. Sonnet LXXXIIII LEt not one sparke of filthy lustfull fyre Breake out, that may her sacred peace molest: Ne one light glance of sensuall desyre: Attempt to work her gentle mindes vnrest. But pure affections bred in spotlesse brest, & modest thoughts breathd fro[m] wel te[m]pred sprites Goe visit her in her bowre of rest, Accompanyde with […]...
24. 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 […]...
25. Song of the Flower XXIII I am a kind word uttered and repeated By the voice of Nature; I am a star fallen from the Blue tent upon the green carpet. I am the daughter of the elements With whom Winter conceived; To whom Spring gave birth; I was Reared in the lap of Summer and I Slept in the […]...
26. 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 […]...
27. 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 […]...
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. 374. Song-O can ye Labour Lea? Chorus-O can ye labour lea, young man, O can ye labour lea? It fee nor bountith shall us twine Gin ye can labour lea. I FEE’D a man at Michaelmas, Wi’ airle pennies three; But a’ the faut I had to him, He could na labour lea, O can ye labour lea, &c. O clappin’s […]...
30. 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 […]...
31. Against Idleness and Mischief How doth the little busy Bee Improve each shining Hour, And gather Honey all the day From every opening Flower! How skilfully she builds her Cell! How neat she spreads the Wax! And labours hard to store it well With the sweet Food she makes. In Works of Labour or of Skill I would be […]...
32. 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 […]...
33. 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 […]...
34. On Fayrford Windowes I know no paynt of poetry Can mend such colourd Imag’ry In sullen inke: yet Fayrford, I May relish thy fayre memory. Such is the Ecchoes faynter sound, Such is the light when sunne is drownd; So did the fancy looke upon The worke before it was begunne: Yet when those shewes are out of […]...
35. Sonnet XXXIII: I Might I might! unhappy word O me, I might, And then would not, or could not, see my bliss; Till now wrapt in a most infernal night, I find how heav’nly day, wretch! I did miss. Heart, rend thyself, thou dost thyself but right; No lovely Paris made thy Helen his, No force, no fraud robb’d […]...
36. 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 […]...
37. 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 […]...
38. 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 […]...
39. Sonnet V Those hours, that with gentle work did frame The lovely gaze where every eye doth dwell, Will play the tyrants to the very same And that unfair which fairly doth excel: For never-resting time leads summer on To hideous winter and confounds him there; Sap cheque’d with frost and lusty leaves quite gone, Beauty o’ersnow’d […]...
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 […]...