Because I breathe not loue to euery one, Nor doe not vse sette colours for to weare, Nor nourish speciall locks of vowed haire, Nor giue each speech a full point of a grone,...
Deere, why make you more of a dog then me? If he doe loue, I burne, I burne in loue; If he waite well, I neuer thence would moue; If he be faire, yet but a dog can be; Little he is, so little worth is he;...
Muses, I oft inuoked your holy ayde, With choisest flowers my speech t' engarland so, That it, despisde, in true but naked shew Might winne some grace in your sweet grace arraid;...
Fy, schoole of Patience, fy! your Lesson is Far, far too long to learne it without booke: What, a whole weeke without one peece of looke, And thinke I should not your large precepts misse!...
Who hauing made, with many fights, his owne Each sence of mine, each gift, each pow'r of mind; Growne now his slaues, he forst them out to find The thorowest words fit for Woes selfe to grone,...
Doubt there hath beene when with his golden chaine The orator so farre mens hearts doth bind, That no pace else their guided steps can find But as he them more short or slack doth raine;...
When my good Angell guides me to the place Where all my good I doe in Stella see, That heau'n of ioyes throwes onely downe on me Thundring disdaines and lightnings of disgrace;...
Oft with true sighs, oft with vncalled teares, Now with slow words, now with dumbe eloquence, I Stellas eyes assaid, inuade her eares; But this, at last, is her sweet breath'd defence:...
Late tyr'd with wo, euen ready for to pine With rage of loue, I cald my Loue vnkind; She in whose eyes loue, though vnfelt, doth shine, Sweet said, that I true loue in her should find....
O grammer-rules, O now your vertues show; So children still reade you with awfull eyes, As my young doue may, in your precepts wise, Her graunt to me by her owne vertue know:...
No more, my deare, no more these counsels trie; O giue my passions leaue to run their race; Let Fortune lay on me her worst disgrace; Let folke orecharg'd with braine against me crie;...
O ioy to high for my low stile to show! O blisse fit for a nobler seat then me! Enuie, put out thine eyes, least thou do see What oceans of delight in me do flowe!...
Loue, by sure proofe I may call thee vnkind, That giu'st no better ear to my iust cries; Thou whom to me such good turnes should bind, As I may well recount, but none can prize:...
And do I see some cause a hope to feede, Or doth the tedious burden of long wo In weaken'd minds quick apprehending breed Of euerie image which may comfort shew? I cannot brag of word, much lesse of deed,...
Hope, art thou true, or doest thou flatter me? Doth Stella now beginne with piteous eye The ruines of her conquest to espie? Will she take time before all wracked be?...
Stella, the onely planet of my light, Light of my life, and life of my desire, Chiefe good whereto my hope doth only aspire, World of my wealth, and heau'n of my delight;...
My Muse may well grudge at my heau'nly ioy, Yf still I force her in sad rimes to creepe: She oft hath drunk my teares, now hopes to enioy Nectar of mirth, since I Ioues cup do keepe....
Who will in fairest booke of Nature know How vertue may best lodg'd in Beautie be, Let him but learne of Loue to reade in thee, Stella, those faire lines which true goodnesse show....
Desire, though thou my old companion art, And oft so clings to my pure loue that I One from the other scarcely can discrie, While each doth blowe the fier of my hart;...
Loue, still a Boy, and oft a wanton is, School'd onely by his mothers tender eye; What wonder then if he his lesson misse, When for so soft a rodde deare play he trye?...