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?
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
Sonnet XXX: Those Priests
To the Vestals Those priests which first the Vestal fire begun, Which might be borrow’d from no earthly flame, Devis’d a vessel to receive the Sun, Being steadfastly opposed to the same; Where, with
Sonnet XLV: Muses, Which Sadly Sit
Muses, which sadly sit about my chair, Drown’d in the tears extorted by my lines, With heavy sighs whilst thus I break the air, Painting my passions in these sad designs, Since she disdains
Sonnet XXV: O Why Should Nature
O why should Nature niggardly restrain That foreign nations relish not our tongue? Else should my lines glide on the waves of Rhene And crown the Pyrens with my living song. But, bounded thus,