LXXIX

Whilst I alone did call upon thy aid,
My verse alone  

LIV

O! how much more doth beauty beauteous seem
By that sw  

LVIII

That god forbid, that made me first your slave,
I should i  

LXXXVIII

When thou shalt be dispos'd to set me light,
And  

CXLVII

My love is as a fever longing still,
For that which  

CXIX

What potions have I drunk of Siren tears,
Distill'd  

LXXI

No longer mourn for me when I am dead
Than you shall  

CXLVIII

O me! what eyes hath Love put in my head,
Which ha  

CII

My love is strengthen'd, though more weak in seeming;
I lov  

LXXXIII

I never saw that you did painting need,
And theref  

XCIII

So shall I live, supposing thou art true,
Like a dec  

XXVI

Lord of my love, to whom in vassalage
Thy merit hath  

XLV

The other two, slight air, and purging fire
Are both w  

LXXXVIII

When thou shalt be dispos'd to set me light,
And  

CLIV

The little Love-god lying once asleep,
Laid by his side his  

XLI

Those pretty wrongs that liberty commits,
When I am so  

II

When forty winters shall besiege thy brow,
And dig deep  

LXXVI

Why is my verse so barren of new pride,
So far from  

CXI

O! for my sake do you with Fortune chide,
The guilty g  

CIII

Alack! what poverty my Muse brings forth,
That having  

XXVI

Lord of my love, to whom in vassalage
Thy merit hath  

CXXVI

O thou, my lovely boy, who in thy power
Dost hold Ti  

CXLV

Those lips that Love's own hand did make,
Breathed f  

LIX

If there be nothing new, but that which is
Hath been b  

LXXXI

Or I shall live your epitaph to make,
Or you survive  

CXXIX

The expense of spirit in a waste of shame
Is lust in  

X

For shame! deny that thou bear'st love to any,
Who for  

CL

O! from what power hast thou this powerful might,
With  

CVII

Not mine own fears, nor the prophetic soul
Of the wid  

CXL

Be wise as thou art cruel; do not press
My tongue-tied patience with  

CIII

Alack! what poverty my Muse brings forth,
That having  

II

When forty winters shall besiege thy brow,
And dig deep  

CX

Alas! 'tis true, I have gone here and there,
And made  

LXXII

O! lest the world should task you to recite
What mer  

CXII

Your love and pity doth the impression fill,
Which vu  

LXXIII

That time of year thou mayst in me behold
When yell  

LXXV

So are you to my thoughts as food to life,
Or as swee  

XXX

When to the sessions of sweet silent thought
I summon up remembrance o  

XIV

Not from the stars do I my judgement pluck;
And yet me  

CXXVII

In the old age black was not counted fair,
Or if it  

XIV

Not from the stars do I my judgement pluck;
And yet me  

CXXXIV

So, now I have confess'd that he is thine,
And I m  

XLVI

Mine eye and heart are at a mortal war,
How to divide  

LI

Thus can my love excuse the slow offence
Of my dull bea  

LXX

That thou art blam'd shall not be thy defect,
For sla  

CXLII

Love is my sin, and thy dear virtue hate,
Hate of my  

CXXVII

In the old age black was not counted fair,
Or if it  

CXXIX

The expense of spirit in a waste of shame
Is lust in  

CLIV

The little Love-god lying once asleep,
Laid by his si  

LXXVI

Why is my verse so barren of new pride,
So far from  

C

Where art thou Muse that thou forget'st so long,
To spe  

LX

Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore,
So do  

III

Look in thy glass and tell the face thou viewest
Now i  

XIII

O! that you were your self; but, love you are
No long