Shake-speares Sonnets, Never before Imprinted

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SHAKE-SPEARES

SONNETS.

Neuer before Imprinted.

Sonnet 1

Shake-speares, SONNETS.

From fairest creatures we desire increase, That thereby beauties Rose might neuer die, But as the riper should by time decease, His tender heire might beare his memory: But thou contracted to thine owne bright eyes, Feed'st thy lights flame with selfe substantiall fewell, Making a famine where aboundance lies, Thy selfe thy foe, to thy sweet selfe too cruell: Thou that art now the worlds fresh ornament, And only herauld to the gaudy spring, Within thine owne bud buriest thy content, And tender chorle makst wast in niggarding: Pitty the world, or else this glutton be, To eate the worlds due, by the graue and thee.

Sonnet 2

<> When fortie Winters shall beseige thy brow, And digge deep trenches in thy beauties field, Thy youthes proud liuery so gaz'd on now, Wil be a totter'd weed of smal worth held: Then being askt, where all thy beautie lies, Where all the treasure of thy lusty daies; To say within thine owne deepe sunken eyes, Were an all-eating shame, and thriftlesse praise. How much more praise deseru'd thy beauties vse, If thou couldst answere this faire child of mine Shall sum my count, and make my old excuse Proouing his beautie by succession thine.

This were to be new made when thou art ould, And see thy blood warme when thou feel'st it could,

Sonnet 3

<> Looke in thy glasse and tell the face thou vewest, Now is the time that face should forme an other, Whose fresh repaire if now thou not renewest, Thou doo'st beguile the world, vnblesse some mother. For where is she so faire whose vn-eard wombe Disdaines the tillage of thy husbandry? Or who is he so fond will be the tombe, Of his selfe loue to stop posterity? Thou art thy mothers glasse and she in thee Calls backe the louely Aprill of her prime, So thou through windowes of thine age shalt see, Dispight of wrinkles this thy goulden time. But if thou liue remembred not to be, Die single and thine Image dies with thee.

Sonnet 4

<> Vnthrifty louelinesse why dost thou spend, Vpon thy selfe thy beauties legacy? Natures bequest giues nothing but doth lend, And being franck she lends to those are free: Then beautious nigard why doost thou abuse, The bountious largesse giuen thee to giue? Profitles vserer why doost thou vse So great a summe of summes yet can'st not liue? For hauing traffike with thy selfe alone, Thou of thy selfe thy sweet selfe dost deceaue, Then how when nature calls thee to be gone, What acceptable Audit can'st thou leaue? Thy vnus'd beauty must be tomb'd with thee, Which vsed liues th'executor to be.

Sonnet 5

<> Those howers that with gentle worke did frame, The louely gaze where euery eye doth dwell Will play the tirants to the very same,

And that vnfaire which fairely doth excell: For neuer resting time leads Summer on, To hidious winter and confounds him there, Sap checkt with frost and lustie leau's quite gon. Beauty ore-snow'd and barenes euery where, Then were not summers distillation left A liquid prisoner pent in walls of glasse, Beauties effect with beauty were bereft, Nor it nor noe remembrance what it was. But flowers distil'd though they with winter meete, Leese but their show, their substance still liues sweet.

Sonnet 6

<> Then let not winters wragged hand deface, In thee thy summer ere thou be distil'd: Make sweet some viall; treasure thou some place, With beautits treasure ere it be selfe kil'd: That vse is not forbidden vsery, Which happies those that pay the willing lone; That's for thy selfe to breed an other thee, Or ten times happier be it ten for one, Ten times thy selfe were happier then thou art, If ten of thine ten times refigur'd thee, Then what could death doe if thou should'st depart, Leauing thee liuing in posterity? Be not selfe-wild for thou art much too faire, To be deaths conquest and make wormes thine heire.

Sonnet 7

<> Loe in the Orient when the gracious light, Lifts vp his burning head, each vnder eye Doth homage to his new appearing fight, Seruing with lookes his sacred maiesty, And hauing climb'd the steepe vp heauenly hill, Resembling strong youth in his middle age, Yet mortall lookes adore his beauty still, Attending on his goulden pilgrimage: But when from high-most pich with wery car,

Like feeble age he reeleth from the day, The eyes (fore dutious) now conuerted are From his low tract and looke an other way: So thou, thy selfe out-going in thy noon: Vnlok'd on diest vnlesse thou get a sonne.

Sonnet 8

<>8 Mvsick to heare, why hear'st thou musick sadly, Sweets with sweets warre not, ioy delights in ioy: Why lou'st thou that which thou receaust not gladly, Or else receau'st with pleasure thine annoy? If the true concord of well tuned sounds, By vnions married do offend thine eare, They do but sweetly chide thee, who confounds In singlenesse the parts that thou should'st beare: M•rke how one string sweet husband to an other, Strikes each in each by mutuall ordering; Resembling sier, and child, and happy mother, Who all in one, one pleasing note do sing: Whose speechlesse song being many, seeming one, Sings this to thee thou single wilt proue none.

Sonnet 9

<>9 Is it for feare to wet a widdowes eye, That thou consum'st thy selfe in single life? Ah; if thou issulesse shalt hap to die, The world will waile thee like a makelesse wife, The world wilbe thy widdow and still weepe, That thou no forme of thee hast left behind, When euery priuat widdow well may keepe, By childrens eyes, her husbands shape in minde: Looke what an vnthrift in the world doth spend Shifts but his place, for still the world inioyes it But beauties waste hath in the world an end, And kept vnvsde the vser so destroyes it: No loue toward others in that bosome sits That on himselfe such murdrous shame commits.

Sonnet 10

<>10 For shame deny that thou bear'st loue to any Who for thy selfe art so vnprouident Graunt if thou wilt, thou art belou'd of many, But that thou none lou'st is most euident: For thou art so possest with murdrous hate, That gainst thy selfe thou stickst not to conspire, Seeking that beautious roofe to ruinate Which to repaire should be thy chiefe desire: O change thy thought, that I may change my minde, Shall hate be fairer log'd then gentle loue? Be as thy presence is gracious and kind, Or to thy selfe at least kind harted proue, Make thee an other selfe for loue of me, That beauty still may liue in thine or thee.

Sonnet 11

<>11 As fast as thou shalt wane so fast thou grow'st, In one of thine, from that which thou departest, And that fresh bloud which yongly thou bestow'st, Thou maist call thine, when thou from youth conuertest, Herein liues wisdome, beauty, and increase, Without this follie, age, and could decay, If all were minded so, the times should cease, And threescoore yeare would make the world away: Let those whom nature hath not made for store, Harsh, featurelesse, and rude, barrenly perrish, Looke whom she best indow'd, she gaue the more; Which bountious guift thou shouldst in bounty cherrish, She caru'd thee for her scale, and ment therby, Thou shouldst print more, not let that coppy die.

Sonnet 12

<>12 When I doe count the clock that tels the time, And see the braue day sunck in hidious night, When I behold the violet past prime, And sable curls or siluer'd ore with white: When lofty trees I see barren of leaues, Which erst from heat did canopie the herd

And Sommers greene all girded vp in sheaues Borne on the beare with white and bristly beard: Then of thy beauty do I question make That thou among the wastes of time must goe, Since sweets and beauties do them-selues forsake, And die as fast as they see others grow, And nothing gainst Times sieth can make defence Saue breed to braue him, when he takes thee hence.

Sonnet 13

<>13 O that you were your selfe, but loue you are No longer yours, then you your selfe here liue, Against this cumming end you should prepare, And your sweet semblance to some other giue. So should that beauty which you hold in lease Find no determination, then you were You selfe again after your selfes-decease, When your sweet issue your sweet forme should beare. Who lets so faire a house fall to decay, Which husbandry in honour might vphold, Against the stormy gusts of winters day And barren rage of deaths eternall cold? O none but vnthrifts, deare my loue you know, You had a Father, let your Son say so.

Sonnet 14

<>14 Not from the stars do I my iudgement plucke, And yet me thinkes I haue Astronomy, But not to tell of good, or euil lucke, Of plagues, of dearths, or seasons quallity, Nor can I fortune to breefe mynuits tell; Pointing to each his thunder, raine and winde, Or say with Princes if it shal go wel By oft predict that I in heauen finde. But from thine eies my knowledge I deriue, And constant stars in them I read such art As truth and beautie shal together thriue If from thy selfe, to store thou wouldst conuert:

Or else of thee this I prognosticate, Thy end is Truthes and Beauties doome and date.

Sonnet 15

<>15 When I consider euery thing that growes Holds in perfection but a little moment. That this huge stage presenteth nought but showes Whereon the Stars in secret influence comment. When I perceiue that men as plants increase, Cheared and checkt euen by the selfe-same skie: Vaunt in their youthfull sap, at height decrease, And were their braue state out of memory. Then the conceit of this inconstant stay, Sets you most rich in youth before my sight, Where wastfull time debateth with decay To change your day of youth to sullied night, And all in war with Time for loue of you As he takes from you, I ingrast you new.

Sonnet 16

<>16 Bvt wherefore do not you a mightier waie Make warre vppon this bloudie tirant time? And fortifie your selfe in your decay With meanes more blessed then my barren rime? Now stand you on the top of happie houres, And many maiden gardens yet vnset, With vertuous wish would beare your liuing flowers, Much liker then your painted counterfeit: So should the lines of life that life repaire Which this (Times pensel or my pupill pen) Neither in inward worth nor outward faire Can make you liue your selfe in eies of men, To giue away your selfe, keeps your selfe still, And you must liue drawne by your owne sweet skill.

Sonnet 17

<>17 Who will beleeue my verse in time to come If it were fild with your most high deserts?

Though yet heauen knowes it is but as a tombe Which hides your life, and shewes not halfe your parts: If I could write the beauty of your eyes, And in fresh numbers number all your graces, The age to come would say this Poet lies, Such heauenly touches nere toucht earthly faces. So should my papers (yellowed with their age) Be scorn'd, like old men of lesse truth then tongue, And your true rights be termd a Poets rage, And stretched miter of an Antique song. But were some childe of yours aliue that time, You should liue twise in it, and in my rime.

Sonnet 18

<>18. Shall I compare thee to a Summers day? Thou art more louely and more temperate: Rough windes do shake the darling buds of Maie, And Sommers lease hath all too short a date: Sometime too hot the eye of heauen shines, And often is his gold complexion dimm'd, And euery faire from faire some-time declines, By chance, or natures changing course vntrim'd: But thy eternall Sommer shall not fade, Nor loose possession of that faire thou ow'st, Nor shall death brag thou wandr'st in his shade, When in eternall lines to time thou grow'st, So long as men can breath or eyes can see, So long liues this, and this giues life to thee,

Sonnet 19

<>19 Deuouring time blunt thou the Lyons pawes, And make the earth deuoure her owne sweet brood, Plucke the keene teeth from the fierce Tygers yawes, And burne the long liu'd Phaenix in her blood, Make glad and sorry seasons as thou fleet'st, And do what ere thou wilt swift-footed time To the wide world and all her fading sweets: But I forbid thee one most hainous crime,

O carue not with thy howers my loues faire brow, Nor draw noe lines there with thine antique pen, Him in thy course vntainted doe allow, For beauties patterne to succeding men. Yet doe thy worst ould Time dispight thy wrong, My loue shall in my verse euer liue young.

Sonnet 20

<>20 A womans face with natures owne hand painted, Haste thou the Master Mistris of my passion, A womans gentel hart but not acquainted With shifting change as is false womens fashion, An eye more bright then theirs, lesse false in rowling: Gilding the obiect where-vpon it gazeth, A man in hew all Hews in his controwling, Which steales mens eyes and womens soules amaseth▪ And for a woman wert thou first created, Till nature as she wrought thee fell a dotinge, And by addition me of thee defeated, By adding one thing to my purpose nothing. But since she prickt thee out for womens pleasure, Mine be thy loue and thy loues vse their treasure.

Sonnet 21

<>21 So is it not with me as with that Muse, Stird by a painted beauty to his verse, Who heauen it selfe for ornament doth vse, And euery faire with his faire doth reherse, Making a coopelment of proud compare With Sunne and Moone, with earth and seas rich gems: With Aprills first borne flowers and all things rare, That heauens ayre in this huge rondure hems, O let me true in loue but truly write, And then beleeue me, my loue is as faire, As any mothers childe, though not so bright As those gould can dells fixt in heauens ayer: Let them say more that like of heare-say well, I will not prayse that purpose not to sell.

Sonnet 22

<>22 My glasse shall not perswade me I am ould, So long as youth and thou are of one date, But when in thee times forrwes I behould, Then look I death my daies should expiate. For all that beauty that doth couer thee, Is but the seemely rayment of my heart, Which in thy brest doth liue, as thine in me, How can I then be elder then thou art? O therefore loue be of thy selfe so wary. As I not for my selfe, but for thee will, Bearing thy heart which I will keepe so chary As tender nurse her babe from faring ill, Presume not on thy heart when mine is slaine, Thou gau'st me thine not to giue backe againe.

Sonnet 23

<>23 As an vnperfect actor on the stage, Who with his feare is put besides his part, Or some fierce thing repleat with too much rage, Whose strengths abondance weakens his owne heart; So I for feare of trust, forget to say, The perfect ceremony of loues right, And in mine owne loues strength seeme to decay, Ore-charg'd with burthen of mine owne loues might: O let my books be then the eloquence, And domb presagers of my speaking brest, Who pleade for loue, and look for recompence, More then that tonge that more hath more exprest. O learne to read what silent loue hath writ, To heare wit eies belongs to loues fine wiht.

Sonnet 24

<>24 Mine eye hath play'd the painter and hath steeld, Thy beauties forme in table of my heart, My body is the frame wherein ti's held, And perspectiue it is best Painters art. For through the Painter must you see his skill,

To finde where your true Image pictur'd lies, Which in my bosomes shop is hanging stil, That hath his windowes glazed with thine eyes: Now see what good-turnes eyes for eies haue done, Mine eyes haue drawne thy shape, and thine for me Are windowes to my brest, where-through the Sun Delights to peepe, to gaze therein on thee Yet eyes this cunning want to grace their art They draw but what they see, know not the hart.

Sonnet 25

<>25 Let those who are in fauor with their stars, Of publike honour and proud titles bost, Whilst I whome fortune of such tryumph bars Vnlookt for ioy in that I honour most; Great Princes fauorites their faire leaues spread, But as the Marygold at the suns eye, And in them-selues their pride lies buried, For at a frowne they in their glory die. The painefull warrier famosed for worth, After a thousand victories once foild, Is from the booke of honour rased quite, And all the rest forgot for which he toild: Then happy I that loue and am beloued Where I may not remoue, nor be remoued.

Sonnet 26

<>26 Lord of my loue, to whome in vassalage Thy merrit hath my dutie strongly knit; To thee I send this written ambassage To witnesse duty, not to shew my wit. Duty so great, which wit so poore as mine May make seeme bare, in wanting words to shew it; But that I hope some good conceipt of thine In thy soules thought (all naked) will bestow it: Til whatsoeuer star that guides my mouing, Points on me gratiously with faire aspect, And puts apparrell on my tottered louing,

To show me worthy of their sweet respect, Then may I dare to boast how I doe loue thee, Til then, not show my head where thou maist proue me

Sonnet 27

<>27 Weary with toyle, I hast me to my bed, The deare repose for lims with trauaill tired, But then begins a iourny in my head To worke my mind, when boddies work's expired. For then my thoughts (from far where I abide) Intend a zelous pilgrimage to thee, And keepe my drooping eye-lids open wide, Looking on darknes which the blind doe see. Saue that my soules imaginary sight Presents their shaddoe to my sightles view, Which like a iewell (hunge in gastly night) Makes blacke night beautious, and her old face new. Loe thus by day my lims, by night my mind, For thee, and for my selfe, noe quiet finde.

Sonnet 28

<>28 How can I then returne in happy plight That am debard the benifit of rest? When daies oppression is not eazd by night, But day by night and night by day oprest. And each (though enimes to ethers raigne) Doe in consent shake hands to torture me, The one by toyle, the other to complaine How far I toyle, still farther off from thee. I tell the Day to please him thou art bright, And do'st him grace when clouds doe blot the heauen: So flatter I the swart complexiond night, When sparkling stars twire not thou guil'st th' eauen. But day doth daily draw my sorrowes longer, And night doth nightly make greefes length seeme stronger

Sonnet 29

<>29 When in disgrace with Fortune and mens eyes, I all alone beweepe my out-cast state,

And trouble deafe heauen with my bootlesse cries. And looke vpon my selfe and curse my fate, Wishing me like to one more rich in hope, Featur'd like him, like him with friends possest, Desiring this mans art, and that mans skope, With what I most inioy contented least, Yet in these thoughts my selfe almost despising, Haplye I thinke on thee, and then my state, (Like to the Larke at breake of daye arising) From sullen earth sings himns at Heauens gate, For thy sweet loue remembred such welth brings, That then I skorne to change my state with Kings.

Sonnet 30

<>30 When to the Sessions of sweet silent thought, I sommon vp remembrance of things past, I sigh the lacke of many a thing I sought, And with old woes new waile my deare times waste: Then can I drowne an eye (vn-vs'd to flow) For precious friends hid in deaths dateles night, And weepe a fresh loues long since canceld woe, And mone th'expence of many a vannisht sight. Then can I greeue at greeuances fore-gon, And heauily from woe to woe tell ore The sad account of fore-bemoned mone, Which I new pay as if not payed before. But if the while I thinke on thee (deare friend) All losses are restord, and sorrowes end.

Sonnet 31

<>31 Thy bosome is indeared with all hearts, Which I by lacking haue supposed dead, And there raignes Loue and all Loues louing parts, And all those friends which I thought buried. How many a holy and obsequious teare Hath deare religious loue stolne from mine eye, As interest of the dead, which now appeare, But things remou'd that hidden in there lie.

Thou art the graue where buried loue doth liue, Hung with the tropheis of my louers gon, Who all their parts of me to thee did giue, That due of many, now is thine alone. Their images I lou'd, I view in thee, And thou (all they) hast all the all of me.

Sonnet 32

<>32 If thou suruiue my well contented daie, When that churle death my bones with dust shall couer And shalt by fortune once more re-suruay: These poore rude lines of thy deceased Louer: Compare them with the bett'ring of the time, And though they be out-stript by euery pen, Reserue them for my loue, not for their rime, Exceeded by the hight of happier men. Oh then voutsafe me but this louing thought, Had my friends Muse growne with this growing age, A dearer birth then this his loue had brought To march in ranckes of better equipage: But since he died and Poets better proue, Theirs for their stile ile read, his for his loue.

Sonnet 33

<>33 Fvll many a glorious morning haue I seene, Flatter the mountaine tops with soueraine eie, Kissing with golden face the meddowes greene; Guilding pale streames with heauenly alcumy: Anon permit the basest cloudes to ride, With ougly rack on his celestiall face, And from the for-lorne world his visage hide Stealing vnseene to west with this disgrace: Euen so my Sunne one early morne did shine, With all triumphant splendor on my brow, But out alack, he was but one houre mine, The region cloude hath mask'd him from me now. Yet him for this, my loue no whit disdaineth, Suns of the world may staine, whē heauens sun stainteh.

Sonnet 34

<>34 Why didst thou promise such a beautious day, And make me trauaile forth without my cloake, To let bace cloudes ore-take me in my way, Hiding thy brau'ry in their rotten smoke. Tis not enough that through the cloude thou breake, To dry the raine on my storme-beaten face, For no man well of such a salue can speake, That heales the wound, and cures not the disgrace: Nor can thy shame giue phisicke to my griefe, Though thou repent, yet I haue still the losse, Th'offenders sorrow lends but weake reliefe To him that beares the strong offenses losse. Ah but those teares are pearle which thy loue sheeds, And they are ritch, and ransome all ill deeds.

Sonnet 35

<>35 No more bee greeu'd at that which thou hast done, Roses haue thornes, and siluer fountaines mud, Cloudes and eclipses staine both Moone and Sunne, And loathsome canker liues in sweetest bud. All men make faults, and euen I in this, Authorizing thy trespas with compare, My selfe corrupting saluing thy amisse, Excusing their fins more then their sins are: For to thy sensuall fault I bring in sence, Thy aduerse party is thy Aduocate, And gainst my selfe a lawfull plea commence, Such ciuill war is in my loue and hate, That I an accessary needs must be, To that sweet theefe which sourely robs from me,

Sonnet 36

<>36 Let me confesse that we two must be twaine, Although our vndeuided loues are one: So shall those blots that do with me remaine, Without thy helpe, by me be borne alone. In our two loues there is but one respect,

Though in our liues a seperable spight, Which though it alter not loues sole effect, Yet doth it steale sweet houres from loues delight, I may not euer-more acknowledge thee, Least my bewailed guilt should do thee shame, Nor thou with publike kindnesse honour me, Vnlesse thou take that honour from thy name: But doe not so, I loue thee in such sort, As thou being mine, mine is thy good report.

Sonnet 37

<>37 As a decrepit father takes delight, To see his actiue childe do deeds of youth, So I, made lame by Fortunes dearest spight Take all my comfort of thy worth and truth. For whether beauty, birth, or wealth, or wit, Or any of these all, or all, or more Intitled in their parts, do crowned sit, I make my loue ingrafted to this store: So then I am not lame, poore, nor dispis'd, Whilst that this shadow doth such substance giue, That I in thy abundance am suffic'd, And by a part of all thy glory liue: Looke what is best, that best I wish in thee, This wish I haue, then ten times happy me.

Sonnet 38

<>38 How can my Muse want subiect to inuent While thou dost breath that poor'st into my verse, Thine owne sweet argument, to excellent, For euery vulgar paper to rehearse: Oh giue thy selfe the thankes if ought in me, Worthy perusal stand against thy sight, For who's so dumbe that cannot write to thee, When thou thy selfe dost giue inuention light? Be thou the tenth Muse, ten times more in worth Then those old nine which rimers innocate, And he that calls on thee, let him bring forth

Eternal numbers to out-liue long date. If my slight Muse doe please these curious daies, The paine be mine, but thine shal be the praise.

Sonnet 39

<>39 Oh how thy worth with manners may I singe, When thou art all the better part of me? What can mine owne praise to mine owne selfe bring; And what is't but mine owne when I praise thee, Euen for this, let vs deuided liue, And our deare loue loose name of single one, That by this seperation I may giue: That due to thee which thou deseru'st alone: Oh absence what a torment wouldst thou proue, Were it not thy soure leisure gaue sweet leaue, To entertaine the time with thoughts of loue, Which time and thoughts so sweetly dost deceiue. And that thou teachest how to make one twaine, By praising him here who doth hence remaine.

Sonnet 40

<>40 Take all my loues, my loue, yea take them all, What hast thou then more then thou hadst before? No loue, my loue, that thou maist true loue call, All mine was thine, before thou hadst this more: Then if for my loue, thou my loue receiuest, I cannot blame thee, for my loue thou vsest, But yet be blam'd, if thou this selfe deceauest By wilfull taste of what thy selfe refusest. I doe forgiue thy robb'rie gentle theefe Although thou steale thee all my pouerty: And yet loue knowes it is a greater griefe To beare loues wrong, then hates knowne iniury. Lasciuious grace, in whom all il wel showes, Kill me with spights yet we must not be foes.

Sonnet 41

<>41 Those pretty wrongs that liberty commits, When I am some-time absent from thy heart,

Thy beautie, and thy yeares full well befits, For still temptation followes where thou art. Gentle thou art, and therefore to be wonne, Beautious thou art, therefore to be assailed. And when a woman woes, what womans sonne, Will sourely leaue her till he haue preuailed. Aye me, but yet thou mighst my feate forbeare, And chide thy beauty, and thy straying youth, Who lead thee in their ryot euen there Where thou art forst to breake a two-fold truth: Hers by thy beauty tempting her to thee, Thine by thy beautie beeing false to me.

Sonnet 42

<>42 That thou hast her it is not all my griefe, And yet it may be said I lou'd her deerely, That she hath thee is of my wayling cheefe, A losse in loue that touches me more neerely. Louing offendors thus I will excuse yee, Thou doost loue her, because thou knowst I loue her, And for my sake euen so doth she abuse me, Suffring my friend for my sake to approoue her, If I loose thee, my losse is my loues gaine, And loosing her, my friend hath found that losse, Both finde each other, and I loose both twaine, And both for my sake lay on me this crosse, But here's the ioy, my friend and I are one, Sweete flattery, then she loues but me alone.

Sonnet 43

<>43 When most I winke then doe mine eyes best see, For all the day they view things vnrespected, But when I sleepe, in dreames they looke on thee, And darkely bright, are bright in darke directed. Then thou whose shaddow shaddowes doth make bright, How would thy shadowes forme, forme happy show, To the cleere day with thy much cleerer light, When to vn-seeing eyes thy shade shines so?

How would (I say) mine eyes be blessed made, By looking on thee in the liuing day? When in dead night their faire imperfect shade, Through heauy sleepe on sightlesse eyes doth stay? All dayes are nights to see till I see thee, And nights bright daies when dreams do shew thee me▪

Sonnet 44

<>44 If the dull substance of my flesh were thought, Iniurious distance should not stop my way, For then dispight of space I would be brought, From limits farre remote, where thou doost stay, No matter then although my foote did stand Vpon the farthest earth remoou'd from thee, For nimble thought can iumpe both sea and land, As soone as thinke the place where he would be. But ah, thought kills me that I am not thought To leape large lengths of miles when thou art gone, But that so much of earth and water wrought, I must attend, times leasure with my mone. Receiuing naughts by elements so sloe, But heauie teares, badges of eithers woe.