XXX

When to the sessions of sweet silent thought
I summon  

LXXVII

Thy glass will show thee how thy beauties wear,
Thy  

XXVIII

How can I then return in happy plight,
That am deba  

XXVI

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

XCI

Some glory in their birth, some in their skill,
Some i  

CXXV

Were't aught to me I bore the canopy,
With my extern  

LXXXI

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

LXXXIV

Who is it that says most, which can say more,
Than  

XCIII

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

CX

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

XLI

Those pretty wrongs that liberty commits,
When I am so  

CXXIX

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

CXLIX

Canst thou, O cruel! say I love thee not,
When I aga  

LXVII

Ah! wherefore with infection should he live,
And wit  

LXVI

Tired with all these, for restful death I cry,
As to  

LXX

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

CXXXIV

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

X

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

CXLV

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

VIII

Music to hear, why hear'st thou music sadly?
Sweets  

XXII

My glass shall not persuade me I am old,
So long as y  

CXXIV

If my dear love were but the child of state,
It migh  

XXXII

If thou survive my well-contented day,
When that chu  

CXXV

Were't aught to me I bore the canopy,
With my extern  

XCIX

The forward violet thus did I chide:
Sweet thief, whe  

LXXV

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

XCIII

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

C

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

CLIV

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

LXXX

O! how I faint when I of you do write,
Knowing a bett  

CXIV

Or whether doth my mind, being crown'd with you,
Dri  

LXXIV

But be contented: when that fell arrest
Without all bail shall carry  

VI

Then let not winter's ragged hand deface,
In thee thy  

XCIII

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

XIV

Not from the stars do I my judgement pluck;
And yet methinks I have as  

VII

Lo! in the orient when the gracious light
Lifts up his  

XLI

Those pretty wrongs that liberty commits,
When I am so  

XXIV

Mine eye hath play'd the painter and hath stell'd,
  

XIV

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

II

When forty winters shall besiege thy brow,
And dig deep  

XXXVII

As a decrepit father takes delight
To see his activ  

XXXIX

O! how thy worth with manners may I sing,
When thou  

CXXVII

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

XIII

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

CXI

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

LXVI

Tired with all these, for restful death I cry,
As to