Sonnet XXVII

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1. 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 […]...
2. 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, […]...
3. 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 […]...
4. 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 […]...
5. Sonnet XXVII: Oh! Ye Bright Stars Oh! ye bright Stars! that on the Ebon fields Of Heav’n’s empire, trembling seems to stand; ‘Till rosy morn unlocks her portal bland, Where the proud Sun his fiery banner wields! To flames, less fierce than mine, your lustre yields, And pow’rs more strong my countless tears command; Love strikes the feeling heart with ruthless […]...
6. 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 […]...
7. 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 […]...
8. 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 […]...
9. 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 […]...
10. Sonnet XXVII: Because I Oft Because I oft in dark abstracted guise Seem most alone in greatest company, With dearth of words, or answers quite awry, To them that would make speech of speech arise, They deem, and of their doom the rumor flies, That poison foul of bubbling pride doth lie So in my swelling breast that only I […]...
11. 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 […]...
12. Sonnet XXVII Weary with toil, I haste me to my bed, The dear repose for limbs with travel tired; But then begins a journey in my head, To work my mind, when body’s work’s expired: For then my thoughts, from far where I abide, Intend a zealous pilgrimage to thee, And keep my drooping eyelids open wide, […]...
13. Sonnet XXVII: Is Not Love Here Is not Love here as ’tis in other climes, And differeth it, as do the several nations? Or hath it lost the virtue with the times, Or in this island altereth with the fashions? Or have our passions lesser power than theirs, Who had less art them lively to express? Is Nature grown less powerful […]...
14. Morning (Love Sonnet XXVII) Naked you are simple as one of your hands; Smooth, earthy, small, transparent, round. You’ve moon-lines, apple pathways Naked you are slender as a naked grain of wheat. Naked you are blue as a night in Cuba; You’ve vines and stars in your hair. Naked you are spacious and yellow As summer in a golden […]...
15. Poem 17 Now ceasse ye damsels your delights forepast, Enough is it, that all the day was youres: Now day is doen, and night is nighing fast: Now bring the Bryde into the brydall boures. Now night is come, now soone her disaray, And in her bed her lay; Lay her in lillies and in violets, And […]...
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 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 […]...
18. 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 […]...
19. Psalm 87 Among the holy Mountains high Is his foundation fast, There Seated in his Sanctuary, His Temple there is plac’t. Sions fair Gates the Lord loves more Then all the dwellings faire Of Jacobs Land, though there be store, And all within his care. City of God, most glorious things Of thee abroad are spoke; I […]...
20. Sonnet LXXXVI Was it the proud full sail of his great verse, Bound for the prize of all too precious you, That did my ripe thoughts in my brain inhearse, Making their tomb the womb wherein they grew? Was it his spirit, by spirits taught to write Above a mortal pitch, that struck me dead? No, neither […]...
21. Sonnet 86: Was it the proud full sail of his great verse Was it the proud full sail of his great verse, Bound for the prize of all-too-precious you, That did my ripe thoughts in my brain inhearse, Making their tomb the womb wherein they grew? Was it his spirit, by spirits taught to write Above a mortal pitch, that struck me dead? No, neither he, nor […]...
22. 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 […]...
23. Sonnet XLIV: Whilst Thus My Pen Whilst thus my pen strives to eternize thee, Age rules my lines with wrinkles in my face, Where in the map of all my misery Is modell’d out the world of my disgrace. Whilst, in despite of tyrannizing times, Medea-like, I make thee young again, Proudly thou scorn’st my world-outwearing rhymes And murtherest virtue with […]...
24. Poem 22 ANd thou great Iuno, which with awful might The lawes of wedlock still dost patronize, And the religion of the faith first plight With sacred rites hast taught to solemnize: And eeke for comfort often called art Of women in their smart, Eternally bind thou this louely band, And all thy blessings vnto vs impart. […]...
25. 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 […]...
26. 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 […]...
27. Sonnet to Amicus WHOE’ER thou art, whose soul-enchanting song Steals on the sullen ear of pensive woe; To whom the sounds of melody belong, Sounds, that can more than human bliss bestow; Like the wak’d God of day, whose rays pervade The spangled veil of night, and fling their fires O’er the cold bosom of the em’rald glade, […]...
28. 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 […]...
29. Sonnet XVI ONe day as I vnwarily did gaze On those fayre eyes my loues immortall light: The whiles my stonisht hart stood in amaze, Through sweet illusion of her lookes delight. I mote perceiue how in her glauncing sight, Legions of loues with little wings did fly: Darting their deadly arrowes fyry bright At euery rash […]...
30. Sonnet XI As fast as thou shalt wane, so fast thou growest In one of thine, from that which thou departest; And that fresh blood which youngly thou bestowest Thou mayst call thine when thou from youth convertest. Herein lives wisdom, beauty and increase: Without this, folly, age and cold decay: If all were minded so, the […]...
31. FIRST LOSS AH! who’ll e’er those days restore, Those bright days of early love Who’ll one hour again concede, Of that time so fondly cherish’d! Silently my wounds I feed, And with wailing evermore Sorrow o’er each joy now perish’d. Ah! who’ll e’er the days restore Of that time so fondly cherish’d. 1789.*...
32. Poem 14 NOw al is done; bring home the bride againe, Bring home the triumph of our victory, Bring home with you the glory of her gaine, With ioyance bring her and with iollity. Neuer had man more ioyfull day then this, Whom heauen would heape with blis. Make feast therefore now all this liue long day, […]...
33. 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 […]...
34. 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: […]...
35. 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 […]...
36. 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 […]...
37. 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 […]...
38. 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 […]...
39. 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 […]...
40. Poem 7 NOw is my loue all ready forth to come, Let all the virgins therefore well awayt, And ye fresh boyes that tend vpon her groome Prepare your selues; for he is comming strayt. Set all your things in seemely good aray Fit for so ioyfull day, The ioyfullst day that euer sunne did see Faire […]...