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SONNET. LIIII.

O"

F / this worlds Theatre in which we stay,

My loue lyke the Spectator ydly sits beholding me that all the pageants play, • disguysing diuerlly my troubled wits. Sometimes I ioy when glad occasion fits,

and mask in myrth lyke to a Comedy : soone after when my ioy to forrow flits,

I waile and make my woes a Tragedy. Yet she beholding me with constant eye,

delights not in my merth not rues my smart : but when I laugh she mocks, and when I cry

she laughes, and hardens euermore her hart. What then can moue her ? if not merth, nor mone,

she is no woman, but a sencelesse stone.

SONNET. LV.

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O / oft as I her beauty doe behold,

And therewith doe her cruelty compare : I maruaile of what substance was the mould

the which her made attonce so cruell faire. Not earth; for her high thoghts more heauenly are :

not water ; for her loue doth burne like fyre : not ayre ; for she is not so light or rare :

not fyre ; for she doth friese with faint desire. Then needs another Element inquire

whereof she mote be made ; that is the skye. for to the heauen her haughty looks aspire :

and eke her mind is pure immortall hye. Then sith to heauen ye lykened are the best,

be lyke in mercy as in all the rest.

FAYE

SONNET. LVI.
AYRE / ye be sure, but cruell and vnkind,

as is a Tygre that with greedinesse
hunts after bloud, when he by chance doth find

a feeble beast, doth felly him oppresse. Fayre be ye sure but proud and pitileffe,

as is a storme, that all things doth prostrate : finding a tree alone all comfortleffe,

beats on it strongly it to ruinate. Fayre be ye sure, but hard and obstinate,

as is a rocke amidst the raging floods : gaynst which a ship of succour desolate,

doth suffer wreck both of her selfe and goods. That ship, that tree, and that same beast am I,

whom ye doe wreck, doe ruine, and destroy.

S

SONNET. LVII.
WEET/warriour when shall I haue peace with you?

High time it is, this warre now ended were : which I no lenger can endure to sue,

ne your incessant battry more to beare :
So weake my powres, fo sore my wounds appeare,

that wonder is how I should liue a iot,
seeing my hart through launched euery where

with thousand arrowes, which your eies haue shot: Vet shoot ye sharpely still, and spare me not,

but glory thinke to make these cruel stoures. ye cruell one, what glory can be got, in saying him that would liue gladly yours ? Make peace therefore, and graunt me timely grace :

that al my wounds wil heale in little space.

WEA

SOSSET. LVIII.
By her that is mest assured to her selfe.
EAKE is th'assurance that weake flesh reposeth,

In her owne powre and scorneth others ayde: that soonest fa's when as the most supposeth,

her selfe assurd, and is of nought affrayd. All flesh is frayle, and all her strength vnstayed

like a vaine bubble blowen vp with ayre: deuouring tyme & changeful chance haue prayd,

her glories pride that none may it repayre. Ne none so rich or wise, so strong or fayre,

but fayleth trusting on his owne assurance : and he that standeth on the hyghest stayre

fals lowest : for on earth nought hath enduraunce. Why then doe ye proud fayre, misdeeme so farre, that to your selfe ye most assured arre.

| SONNET. LIX.
'HRISE / happie fhe, that is so well assured

Vnto her selfe and setled so in hart: that nether will for better be allured,

ne feard with worse to any chaunce to start, But like a steddy ship doth strongly part

the raging waues, and keepes her course aright: ne ought for tempeft doth from it depart,

ne ought for fayrer weathers falfe delight. Such selfe assurance need not feare the spight,

of grudging foes, ne fauour seek of friends : but in the stay of her owne stedfast might,

nether to one her felfe nor other bends. Most happy she that most assured doth rest,

but he most happy who such one loues best.

TH

SONNET. LX.

T

HEY,/that in course of heauenly spheares are skild,

To euery planet point his sundry yeare : in which her circles voyage is fulfild,

as Mars in three score yeares doth run his spheare So since the winged God his planet cleare,

began in me to moue, one yeare is spent : the which doth longer vnto me appeare,

then al those fourty which my life outwent. Then by that count, which louers books inuent,

the spheare of Cupid fourty yeares containes : which I haue wasted in long languishment,

that seemd the longer for my greater paines. But let my loues fayre Planet short her wayes

this yeare ensuing, or else short my dayes.

SONNET. LXI.

THE

HE / glorious image of the makers beautie,

My souerayne saynt, the Idoll of my thought, dare not henceforth aboue the bounds of dewtie

ť accuse of pride, or rashly blame for ought. For being as she is diuinely wrought,

and of the brood of Angels heuenly borne :
and with the crew of blessed Saynts vpbrought,

each of which did her with theyr guifts adorne ; The bud of ioy, the blossome of the morne,

the beame of light, whom mortal eyes admyre: what reason is it then but she should scorne,

base things, that to her loue too bold aspire ? Such heauenly formes ought rather worshipt be,

then dare be lou'd by men of meane degree.

THI

SONNET. LXII.
HE / weary yeare his race now hauing run,

The new begins his compast course anew : with shew of morning mylde he hath begun,

betokening peace and plenty to ensew, So let vs, which this chaunge of weather vew,

chaunge ceke our mynds and former liues amend the old yeares sinnes forepast let vs eschew,

and fly the faults with which we did offend. Then shall the new yeares ioy forth freshly send,

into the glooming world his gladsome ray : and all these stormes which now his beauty blend,

shall turne to caulmes and tymely cleare away. So likewise loue cheare you your heauy spright,

and chaunge old yeares annoy to new delight.

SONNET. LXIII.

A

FTER / long stormes and tempests sad assay,

Which hardly I endured heretofore : in dread of death and daungerous dismay,

with which my silly barke was tossed fore. I doe at length descry the happy shore,

in which I hope ere long for to arryue, fayre foyle it seemes from far & fraught with store

of all that deare and daynty is alyue. Most happy he that can at last atchyue

the ioyous safety of so sweet a reft: whose least delight sufficeth to depriue

remembrance of all paines which him opprest. All paines are nothing in respect of this,

all sorrowes short that gaine eternall blisse.

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