Sonnet LXXX
|
|
O, how I faint when I of you do write, | 1
Knowing a better spirit doth use your name, | 2
And in the praise thereof spends all his might, | 3
To make me tongue-tied, speaking of your fame! | 4
But since your worth, wide as the ocean is, | 5
The humble as the proudest sail doth bear, | 6
My saucy bark inferior far to his | 7
On your broad main doth wilfully appear. | 8
Your shallowest help will hold me up afloat, | 9
Whilst he upon your soundless deep doth ride; | 10
Or being wreck'd, I am a worthless boat, | 11
He of tall building and of goodly pride: | 12
Then if he thrive and I be cast away, | 13
The worst was this; my love was my decay. | 14
| | | | | | | | | | | | | |
|