132.Thine eyes I love, and they, as pitying me,Knowing thy heart torments me with disdain,Have put on black and loving mourners be,Looking with pretty ruth upon my pain.And truly not the morning sun of heaven Better becomes the gre...

145*.Those lips that Love's own hand did make,Breathed forth the sound that said 'I hate',To me that languished for her sake:But when she saw my woeful state,Straight in her heart did mercy come,Chiding that tongue that ever sweet...

145*.Those lips that Love's own hand did make,Breathed forth the sound that said 'I hate',To me that languished for her sake:But when she saw my woeful state,Straight in her heart did mercy come,Chiding that tongue that ever sweet...

146*.Poor soul, the centre of my sinful earth, (My sinful earth) these rebel powers that thee arrayWhy dost thou pine within and suffer dearth,Painting thy outward walls so costly gay?Why so large cost, having so short a lease,Dost...

147.My love is as a fever longing still,For that which longer nurseth the disease;Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill,The uncertain sickly appetite to please.My reason, the physician to my love, Angry that his prescriptions...

147.My love is as a fever longing still,For that which longer nurseth the disease;Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill,The uncertain sickly appetite to please.My reason, the physician to my love, Angry that his prescriptions...

125.Were't aught to me I bore the canopy,With my extern the outward honouring,Or laid great bases for eternity,Which proves more short than waste or ruining?Have I not seen dwellers on form and favourLose all and more by paying too...

124.If my dear love were but the child of state,It might for Fortune's bastard be unfathered,As subject to Time's love or to Time's hate,Weeds among weeds, or flowers with flowers gathered.No, it was builded far from accident;It su...

126.O thou, my lovely boy, who in thy powerDost hold Time's fickle glass, his sickle, hour;Who hast by waning grown, and therein showestThy lovers withering, as thy sweet self growest.If Nature, sovereign mistress over wrack,As tho...

126.O thou, my lovely boy, who in thy powerDost hold Time's fickle glass, his sickle, hour;Who hast by waning grown, and therein showestThy lovers withering, as thy sweet self growest.If Nature, sovereign mistress over wrack,As tho...