Sonnet XXXI

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1. 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 […]...
2. 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 […]...
3. 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 […]...
4. 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 […]...
5. 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 […]...
6. 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 […]...
7. 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 […]...
8. 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 […]...
9. 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 […]...
10. Sonnet XXXI Thy bosom is endeared with all hearts, Which I by lacking have supposed dead, And there reigns love and all love’s loving parts, And all those friends which I thought buried. How many a holy and obsequious tear Hath dear religious love stol’n from mine eye As interest of the dead, which now appear But […]...
11. Poem 97 THe wanton boy was shortly wel recured, Of that his malady: But he soone after fresh againe enured, His former cruelty. And since that time he wounded hath my selfe With his sharpe dart of loue: And now forgets the cruell carelesse elfe, His mothers heast to proue. So now I languish till he please, […]...
12. 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, […]...
13. 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 […]...
14. 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, […]...
15. Sonnet XXV HOw long shall this lyke dying lyfe endure, And know no end of her owne mysery: But wast and weare away in termes vnsure, Twixt feare and hope depending doubtfully. Yet better were attonce to let me die, And shew the last ensample of your pride: Then to torment me thus with cruelty, To proue […]...
16. 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 […]...
17. 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 […]...
18. 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 […]...
19. 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 […]...
20. Sonnet LXXVI FAyre bosome fraught with vertues richest tresure, The neast of loue, the lodging of delight: The bowre of blisse, the paradice of pleasure, The sacred harbour of that heuenly spright. How was I rauisht with your louely sight, And my frayle thoughts too rashly led astray? Whiles diuing deepe through amorous insight, On the sweet […]...
21. Sonnet LXIIII COmming to kisse her lyps, (such grace I found) Me seemd I smelt a gardin of sweet flowres: That dainty odours from them threw around For damzels fit to decke their louers bowres. Her lips did smell lyke vnto Gillyflowers, Her ruddy cheekes lyke vnto Roses red: Her snowy browes lyke budded Bellamoures, Her louely […]...
22. 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, […]...
23. 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 […]...
24. 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 […]...
25. Sonnet XXXI: Far O'er the Waves Far o’er the waves my lofty Bark shall glide, Love’s frequent sighs the flutt’ring sails shall swell, While to my native home I bid farewell, Hope’s snowy hand the burnis’d helm shall guide! Triton’s shall sport admidst the yielding tide, Myriads of Cupids round the prow shall dwell, And Venus, thron’d within her opal shell, […]...
26. Sonnet XXXI: Methinks I See To the Critic Methinks I see some crooked mimic jeer, And tax my Muse with this fantastic grace, Turning my papers asks, “What have we here?” Making withal some filthy antic face. I fear no censure, nor what thou canst say, Nor shall my spirit one jot of vigor lose; Think’st thou my wit shall […]...
27. Sonnet XXXI: With How Sad Steps, O Moon With how sad steps, O Moon, thou climb’st the skies! How silently, and with how wan a face! What, may it be that even in heav’nly place That busy archer his sharp arrows tries! Sure, if that long-with love-acquainted eyes Can judge of love, thou feel’st a lover’s case, I read it in thy looks; […]...
28. 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 […]...
29. Poem 1 YE learned sisters which haue oftentimes Beene to me ayding, others to adorne: Whom ye thought worthy of your gracefull rymes, That euen the greatest did not greatly scorne To heare theyr names sung in your simply layes, But ioyed in theyr prayse. And when ye lift your owne mishaps to mourne, Which death, or […]...
30. Poem 16 AH when will this long vveary day haue end, And lende me leaue to come vnto my loue? Hovv slovvly do the houres theyr numbers spend? How slowly does sad Time his feathers moue? Hast thee O fayrest Planet to thy home Within the Westerne some: Thy tyred steedes long since haue need of rest. […]...
31. 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 […]...
32. 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, […]...
33. Sonnet CLIII Cupid laid by his brand, and fell asleep: A maid of Dian’s this advantage found, And his love-kindling fire did quickly steep In a cold valley-fountain of that ground; Which borrow’d from this holy fire of Love A dateless lively heat, still to endure, And grew a seething bath, which yet men prove Against strange […]...
34. Sonnet 153: Cupid laid by his brand and fell asleep Cupid laid by his brand and fell asleep, A maid of Dian’s this advantage found, And his love-kindling fire did quickly steep In a cold valley-fountain of that ground; Which borrowed from this holy fire of Love A dateless lively heat still to endure, And grew a seeting bath, which yet men prove Against strange […]...
35. On The Death Of Sir Tho: Peltham Meerly for man’s death to mourne Were to repine that man was borne. When weake old age doth fall asleepe Twere foule ingratitude to weepe: Those threads alone should pull out tears Whose sodayne cracke breaks off some years. Heere tis not so: full distance heere Sunders the cradle from the beere. A fellow-traveller he […]...
36. Poem 93 TO whom his mother closely smiling sayd, Twixt earnest and twixt game: See thou thy selfe likewise art lyttle made, If thou regard the same. And yet thou suffrest neyther gods in sky, Nor men in earth to rest: But when thou art disposed cruelly, Theyr sleepe thou doost molest. Then eyther change thy cruelty, […]...
37. 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 […]...
38. Poem 19 LEt no lamenting cryes, nor dolefull teares, Be heard all night within nor yet without: Ne let false whispers breeding hidden feares, Breake gentle sleepe with misconceiued dout. Let no deluding dreames, nor dreadful sights Make sudden sad affrights; Ne let housefyres, nor lightnings helpelesse harmes, Ne led the Ponke, nor other euill sprights, Ne […]...
39. 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 […]...
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 […]...