XI.

faft as thou shalt wane, so fast thou grow'st one of thine, from that which thou departeft; d that fresh blood which youngly thou bestow'st, ou may'ft call thine, when thou from youth converteft.

rein lives wisdom, beauty, and increase ; thout this, folly, age, and cold decay : ll were minded fo, the times fhould cease, threefcore years would make the world away, those whom nature hath not made for store, fh, featureless, and rude, barrenly perish : k whom the best endow'd, she gave thee more; ich bounteous gift thou should'st in bounty cherish :

he carv'd thee for her feal, and meant thereby, 'hou fhould't print more, nor let that copy die.

XII.

en I do count the clock that tells the time, A fee the brave day funk in hideous night; en I behold the violet past prime, A fable curls, all filver'd o'er with white; ften lofty trees I fee barren of leaves,

ich erft from heat did canopy the herd, A fummer's green all girded up in fheaves, #ne on the bier with white and brittly beard; en of thy beauty do I queftion make,

at thou among the wastes of time must go, te fweets and beauties do themselves forfake, i die as fast as they fee others grow; [defence, And nothing 'gainft time's fcythe can make ave breed, to brave him, when he takes thee hence.

Not from the stars do I my judgment pluck;
And yet methinks I have aftronomy,
But not to tell of good, or evil luck,
Of plagues, of dearths, or feafons' quality:
Nor can I fortune to brief minutes tell,
Pointing to each his thunder, rain and wind;
Or fay, with princes if it fhall go well,
By oft predict that I in heaven find:
But from thine eyes my knowledge I derive,
And (conftant ftars) in them I read fuch art,
As truth and beauty fhall together thrive,
If from thyself to store thou would'st convert:
Or elfe of thee this I prognofticate,

Thy end is truth's and beauty's doom and date.
XV.

When I confider every thing that grows
Holds in perfection but a little moment,
That this huge state presenteth nought but shews
Whereon the stars in fecret influence comment;
When I perceive that men as plants increase,
Cheered and check'd even by the felf-fame fky;
Vaunt in their youthful fap, at height decrease,
And wear their brave ftate out of memory;
Then the conceit of this inconstant stay
Sets you most rich in youth before my fight,
Where wafteful time debateth with decay,
To change your day of youth to fullied night;
And, all in war with time, for love of you,
As he takes from you, I engraft you new.

XVI.

But wherefore do not you a mightier way
Make war upon this bloody tyrant, Time?
And fortify yourself in your decay

With means more blessed than my barren rhime?
Now ftand you on the top of happy hours;
And many maiden gardens yet unset,

With virtuous with would bear you living flowers,
Much liker than your painted counterfeit :
So fhould the lines of life that life repair,
Which this, Time's pencil, or my pupil pen,
Neither in inward worth, nor outward fair,
Can make you live yourself in eyes of men.

To give away yourself, keeps yourself still;
And you must live, drawn by your own sweet
skill.

So fhould my papers, yellow'd with their age,
Be (corn'd, like old men of lefs truth than tongue;
And your true rights be term'd a poet's rage,
And ftretched metre of an antique fong:

But were fome child of yours alive that time,
You should live twice;-in it, and in my rhime.

XVIII.

Shall I compare thee to a fummer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate :
Rough winds do fhake the darling buds of May,
And fummer's leafe hath all too short a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance, or nature's changing courfe untrimm'd;
But thy eternal fummer fhall not fade,
Nor lofe poffeffion of that fair thou oweft;
Nor fhall death brag thou wander'ft in his fhade,
When in eternal lines to time thou groweft:

So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

XIX.

Devouring Time, blunt thou the lion's paws,
And make the earth devour her own sweet brood;
Pluck the keen teeth from the fierce tyger's jaws,
And burn the long-liv'd phoenix in her blood;
Make glad and sorry feasons as thou fleet'st,
And do whate'er thou wilt, fwift-footed Time,
To the wide world, and all her fading sweets;
But I forbid thee one most heinous crime:
O carve not with thy hours my love's fair brow,
Nor draw no lines there with thine antique pen;
Him in thy course untainted do allow,
For beauty's pattern to fucceeding men.

Yet, do thy worst, old Time: defpite thy wrong,
My love fhall in my verfe ever live young.

XX.

[eth.

A woman's face, with nature's own hand painted,
Haft thou, the master-mittress of my paffion;
A woman's gentle heart, but not acquainted
With fhifting change, as is falfe women's fafhion;
An eye more bright than theirs, less falfe in rolling,
Gilding the object whereupon it gazeth;
A man in hue, all hues in his controlling,
Which steals men's eyes, and women's fouls amaz.
And for a woman wert thou first created;
Till nature, as he wrought thee, fell a-doting,
And by addition me of thee defeated,
By adding one thing to my purpofe nothing.
But fince the prick'd thee out for women's
pleasure,

[ture.

Mine be thy love, and thy love's use their trea-
XXI.

So it is not with me as with that muse,
Stirr'd by a painted beauty to his verfe;
Who heaven itfelf for ornament doth ufe,
And every fair with his fair doth rehearse;
Making a couplement of proud compare, [gems,
With fun and moon, with earth and tea's rich
With April's firfl-born flowers, and all things rare
That heaven's air in this huge rondure hems.

O let me, true in love, but truly write,
And then believe me, my love is as fair
As any mother's child, though not fo bright
As thofe gold candles fix'd in heaven's air:
Let them fay more that like of hear-fay wea;
I will not praise, that purpose not to fell.

XXII.

My glafs fhall not perfuade me I am old,
So long as youth and thou are of one dare;
But when in thee time's furrows I behold,
Then look I death my days fhould expiate.
For all that beauty that doth cover thee,
Is but the feemly raiment of my heart,
Which in thy breaft doth live, as thine in me;
How can I then be elder than thou art?
O therefore, love, be of thyself fo wary,
As I not for myfelf but for thee will;
Bearing thy heart, which I will keep fo chary
As tender nurfe her babe from faring ill
Prefume not on thy heart when mine is far
Thou gav'ft me thine, not to give back agai
XXIII.

As an unperfect actor on the ftage,
Who with his fear is put befide his part,
Or fome fierce thing replete with too much rag,
Whofe ftrength's abundance weakens his e
So I, for fear of truft, forget to fay
The perfect ceremony of love's rite,
And in mine own love's ftrength feem to decy
O'er-charg'd with burthen of mine own k
O let my books be then the eloquence
And dumb prefagers of my fpeaking breaft;
Who plead for love, and look for recompense,
More than that tongue that more hath mutt
prefs'd.

O learn to read what filent love hath writ:
To hear with eyes belongs to love's fine wi

XXIV.

Mine
eye hath play'd the painter, and hath
Thy beauty's form in table of my heart;
My body is the frame wherein 'tis held,
And perfpective it is beft painter's art.
For through the painter muft you fee his skil,
To find where your true image pictur'd be
Which in my bolom's fhop is hanging f
That hath his windows glazed with thine eyes
Now fee what good turns eyes for eyes have dost
Mine eyes have drawn thy fhape, and thine
Are windows to my breaft, where-through the
Delights to peep, to gaze therein on thee;
Yet eyes this cunning want to grace the rat
They draw but what they fee, know not the best

XXV.

Let those who are in favour with their fars,
Ofublic honour and proud titles beaft,
Whift 1, whom fortune of fuch triumph bars,
Unlook'd for joy in that I honour moit.
Great princes' favourites their fair leaves fprad,
But as the marigold at the fun's eye;
And in themselves their pride lies buried,
For at a frown they in their glory die.

The painful warrior famoused for fight,
After a thousand victories once foil'd,
Is from the book of honour razed quite,
And all the reft forgot for which he toil'd:
Then happy I, that love and am beloved,
Where I may not remove, nor be removed.
XXVI.

Lord of my love, to whom in vassalage
Thy merit hath my duty strongly knit,
To thee I fend this written embassage,
To witnefs duty, not to fhew my wit.
Duty fo great, which wit fo poor as mine
May make feem bare, in wanting words to fhew it;
But that I hope fome good conceit of thine
In thy foul's thought, all naked, will beftow it :
Till whatfoever ftar that guides my moving,
Points on me graciously with fair aspect,
And puts apparel on my tattered loving,
To fhew me worthy of thy fweet refpect:

Then may I dare to boaft how I do love thee,
Till then, not fhew my head where thou may'st
prove me.

XXVII.

Weary with toil, I hafte me to my bed,
The dear repofe 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 eye-lids open wide,
Looking on darkness which the blind do fee.
Save that my foul's imaginary fight
Prefents thy fhadow to my fightless view,
Which, like a jewel hung in ghattly night,
Makes black night beauteous, and her old face

When in disgrace with fortune and mens eyes,
I all alone boweep my out-cait state,
And trouble deal heaven with my bootless cries,
And look upon myself, and curfe my fate,

Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
Featur'd like him, like him with friends poffefs'd,
Defiring this man's art, and that man's fcope,
With what I moft enjoy contented leaft;
Yet in these thoughts myfelf almost despifing,
Haply I think on thee,-and then my state
(Like to the lark at break of day arifing
From fullen earth) fings hymns at heaven's gate;
For thy fweet love remember'd, fuch wealth
brings,
[kings.
That then I fcorn to change my state with

XXX.

When to the feffions of fweet filent thought
fummon up remembrance of things past,

I figh the lack of many a thing I fought,
And with old woes new wail my dear time's wafte:
Then can I drown an eye, unus'd to flow,
For precious friends hid in death's datelefs night,
And weep afresh love's long-fince-cancell'd woe,
And moan the expence of many a vanish'd fight.
Then can I grieve at grievances foregone,
And heavily from woe to woe tell o'er
The fad account of fore-bemoaned moan,
Which I new pay as if not paid before.

But if the while I think on thee, dear friend,
All loffes are restor'd, and sorrows end.

XXXI.

Thy bofom 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 obfequious tear
Hath dear religious love ftolen from mine eye,
As intereft of the dead, which now appear
But things remov'd, that hidden in thee lie!
Thou art the grave where buried love doth live,
Hung with the trophies of my lovers gone,
Who all their parts of me to thee did give;
That due of many now is thine alone :
Their images I lov'd I view in thee,
And thou (all they) haft all the all of me.

XXXII.

[cover,

If thou furvive my well-contented day,
When that churl death my bones with duft fhall
And shalt by fortune once more re-survey
Thefe poor rude lines of thy deceased lover,
Compare them with the bettering of the time;
And though they be out-stripp'd by every pen,
Referve them for my love, not for their rhime,
Exceeded by the height of happier men.
O then vouchfate me but this loving thought!
Had my friend's muse grown with this growing age
A dearer birth than this bis love bad brought,
To march in ranks of better equipage :

But fince be died, and poets better prove,
Theirs for their flyle I'll read, his for his love.

Anon permit the bafeft clouds to ride
With ugly rack on his celeftial face,
And from the forlorn world his visage hide,
Stealing unfeen to weft with this disgrace:
Even fo my fun one early morn did shine,
With all triumphant splendour on my brow;
But out! alack! he was but one hour mine,
The region cloud hath mask'd him from me now,
Yet him for this my love no whit disdaineth;
Suns of the world may stain, when heaven's fun
ftaineth.

XXXIV.

Why didst thou promise fuch a beauteous day,
And make me travel forth without my cloak,
To let bafe clouds o'er-take me in my way,
Hiding thy bravery in their rotten smoke?
'Tis not enough that through the cloud thou break,
To dry the rain on my ftorm-beaten face,
For no man well of fuch a falve can speak,
That heals the wound, and cures not the disgrace:
Nor can thy fhame give physic to my grief;
Though thou repent, yet I have ftill the lofs:
The offender's forrow lends but weak relief
To him that bears the ftrong offence's crofs. [fheds,
Ah! but those tears are pearl which thy love
And they are rich, and ransom all ill deeds.

XXXV.

No more be griev'd at that which thou haft done:
Rofes have thorns, and filver fountains mud;
Clouds and eclipfes ftain both moon and fun,
And loathfome canker lives in fweetest bud.
All men make faults, and even I in this,
Authorising thy trefpafs with compare,
Myfelf corrupting, falving thy amifs,
Excufing thy fins more than thy fins are:
For to thy fenfual fault I bring in sense,
(Thy adverse party is thy advocate,)
And 'gainst myself a lawful plea commence:
Such civil war is in my love and hate,

That I an acceffary needs must be

To that sweet thief, which fourly robs from me.

XXXVI.

Let me confefs that we two must be twain,
Although our undivided loves are one:
So fhall those blots that do with me remain,
Without thy help, by me be borne alone,
In our two loves there is but one respect,
Though in our lives a feparable fpite,
Which though it alter not love's fole effect,
Yet doth it steal fweet hours from love's delight.
I may not evermore acknowledge thee,
Left my bewailed guilt fhould do thee fhame;
Nor thou with public kindness honour me,
Unless thou take that honour from thy name:
But do not fo; I love thee in such fort,
As thou being mine, mine is thy good report.

XXXVII.

As a decrepit father takes delight
To fee his active child do deeds of youth,
So I, made lame by fortune's dearest spite,
Take all my comfort of thy worth and truth;

For whether beauty, birth, or wealth, or wit,
Or any of these all, of all, or more,
Entitled in thy parts do crowned fit,

I make my love engrafted to this store:
So then I am not lame, poor, nor defpis'd,
Wolft that this shadow doth fuch fubstance give,
That I in thy abundance am fuffic'd,
And by a part of all thy glory live.

Look what is beft, that beft I wish in thee;
This wish I have; then ten times happy me!

XXXVIII.

How can my mufe want fubject to invent,
While thou doft breathe, that pour'st into my verse
Thine own sweet argument, too excellent
For every vulgar paper to rehearse?
Oh give thyfelf the thanks, if aught in me
Worthy perufal, ftand against thy fight,
For who's fo dumb that cannot write to thee,
When thou thyfelf doft give invention light?
Be thou the tenth mufe, ten times more in worth
Than thofe old nine, which rhimers invocate;
And he that calls on thee, let him bring forth
Eternal numbers to out-live long date.

If my flight mufe do please thefe curious days,
The pain be mine, but thine fhall be the praise.

XXXIX.

O how thy worth with manners may I fing,
When thou art all the better part of me?
What can mine own praise to mine own felf bring?
And what is't but mine own, when I praise thee?
Even for this let us divided live,
And our dear love lose name of single one,
That by this feparation I may give
That due to thee, which thou deferv'ft alone.
O abfence, what a torment would'it thou prove,
Were it not thy four leisure gave sweet leave
To entertain the time with thoughts of love,
(Which time and thoughts fo fweetly doth dece
And that thou teacheft how to make one tw
By praifing him here, who doth hence remai

XL,

Take all my loves, my love, yea, take them all;
What haft thou then more than thou hadst before
No love, my love, that thou may'st true love
-call;

All mine was thine, before thou hadst this mart.
Then if for my love thou my love receiveft,
I cannot blame thee, for my love thou useft;
But yet be blam'd, if thou thy felf deceiveft
By wilful tafte of what thyfelf refufeft.
I do forgive thy robbery, gentle thief,
Although thou fleal thee all my poverty;
And yet love knows, it is a greater grief
To bear love's wrong, than hate's known injury,
Lafcivious grace, in whom all ill well fhews,
Kill me with fpites; yet we must not be foes.

XLI.

Those pretty wrongs that liberty commits, When I am fometime abfent from thy heart, Thy beauty and thy years full well befits, For ftill temptation follows where thou art.

Gentle thou art, and therefore to be won,
Beauteous thou art, therefore to be affair'd;
And when a woman woos, what woman's fon
Will fourly leave her till the have prevail d.
Ah me! but yet thou might'ft, my fweet, forbear,
And chide thy beauty and thy straying youth,
Who lead thee in their riot even there
Where thou art forc'd to break a two-fold truth;
Her's, by thy beauty tempting her to thee,
Thine, by thy beauty being false to me.

XLII.

That thou haft her, it is not all my grief,
And yet it may be faid I lov'd her dearly;
That the hath thee, is of my wailing chief,
A lofs in love that touches me more nearly.
Loving offenders, thus I will excufe ye :—
Thou doft love her, because thou know'ft I love her;
And for my fake even fo doth fhe abuse me,
Suffering my friend for my fake to approve her.
If I lofe thee, my lofs is my love's gain,
And lofing her, my friend hath found that lofs;
Both find each other, and I lofe both twain,
And both for my fake lay on me this cross:

But here's the joy; my friend and I are one;
Sweet flattery!-then the loves but me alone.

XLIII.

When most I wink, then do mine eyes best fee,
For all the day they view things unrespected;
But when I fleep, in dreams they look on thee,
And darkly bright, are bright in dark directed,
Then thou, whofe fhadow fhadows doth make
bright,

How would thy fhadow's form form happy fhew
To the clear day with thy much clearer light,
When to unfeeing eyes thy fhade fhines fo?
How would (I fay) mine eyes be bleffed made
By looking on thee in the living day,
When in dead night thy fair imperfect fhade
Through heavy fleep on fightlefs eyes doth stay?

All days are nights to fee, till I fee thee, [thee me.
And nights, bright days, when dreams do fhew

XLIV.

If the dull fubftance of my flesh were thought,
Injurious distance fhould not stop my way;
For then, defpite of space, I would be brought
From limits far remote, where thou doft stay.
No matter then, although my foot did ftand
Upon the fartheft earth remov'd from thee,
For nimble thought can jump both sea and land,
As foon as think the place where he would be.
But ah! thought kills me, that I am not thought,
To leap large lengths of miles when thou art gone,
But that, fo much of earth and water wrought,
I must attend time's leifure with my moan;
Receiving nought by elements fo flow
But heavy tears, badges of either's woe.

XLV.

The other two, flight air and purging fire,
Are both with thee, wherever I abide;
The first my thought, the other my desire,
These prefent-absent with swift motion fide.

For when thefe quicker clements are gone In tender embaffy of love to thee,

My life being made of four, with two alone,
Sinks down to death, opprefs'd with melancholy;
Until life's compofition be recured

By thofe fwift meflengers return'd from thee,
Who even but now come back again, affured
Of thy fair health, recounting it to me:

This told, I joy; but then no longer glad,
I fend them back again, and straight grow fad.

XLVI.

Mine eye and heart are at a mortal war,
How to divide the conqueft of thy fight;
Mine eye my heart thy picture's fight would bar,
My heart mine eye the freedom of that right.
My heart doth plead, that thou in him dost lie,
| (A closet never pierc'd with crystal eyes,)
But the defendant doth that plea deny,
And fays in him thy fair appearance lies.
To 'cide this title is impannelled

A quest of thoughts, all tenants to the heart;
And by their verdict is determined
The clear eye's moiety, and the dear heart's part

As thus; mine eye's due is thy outward part,
And my heart's right thy inward love of heart.

XLVII.

Betwixt mine eye and heart a league is took,
And each doth good turns now unto the other:
When that mine eye is famifh'd for a look,
Or heart in love with fighs himself doth fmother,
With my love's picture then my eye doth feast,
And to the painted banquet bids my heart:
Another time mine eye is my heart's gueft,
And in his thoughts of love doth share a part:
So, either by thy picture or my love,
Thyfelf away art present still with me;
For thou not farther than my thoughts canft move,
And I am ftill with them, and they with thee;
Or if they fleep, thy picture in my fight
Awakes my heart to heart's and eye's delight.

XLVIII.

How careful was I when I took my way,
Each trifle under trueft bars to thrust,
That, to my use, it might unused stay
From hands of falfehood, in fure wards of trust!
But thou, to whom my jewels trifles are,
Moft worthy comfort, now my greatest grief,
Thou, beft of deareft, and mine only care,
Art left the prey of every vulgar thief..
Thee have I not lock'd up in any cheft,
Save where thou art not, though I feel thou art,
Within the gentle clofure of my breast,

From whence at pleasure thou may'st come and

part;

And even thence thou wilt be stolen I fear, For truth proves thievifh for a prize so dear.

XLIX.

Against that time, if ever that time come, When I fhall fee thee frown on my defects, Whenas thy love hath caft his utmost sum Call'd to that audit by advis'd refpects,