THOU glorious Sun (from whence my lesser light The substance of his crystal shine doth borrow) Let these my moans find favour in thy sight, And with remorse extinguish now my sorrow! Renew those lamps which thy disdain hath quenched, As PHŒBUS doth his sister PHŒBE's shine: Consider how thy CORIN, being drenched In seas of woe, to thee his plaints incline! And at thy feet, with tears, doth sue for grace; Which art the goddess of his chaste desire. Let not thy frowns, these labours poor deface! Although aloft they at the first aspire. And time shall come, as yet unknown to men, When I more large thy praises forth shall pen. SONNET XLIV. WHEN I more large thy praises forth shall show, That all the World thy beauty shall admire; Desiring that most sacred Nymph to know, Which hath the Shepherd's fancy set on fire. Till then, my dear, let these thine eyes content Till then, fair Love, think if I merit favour! Till then, O let thy merciful assent Relish my hopes with some comforting savour! So shall you add such courage to my Muse, That she shall climb the steep Parnassus' Hill: That learned Poets shall my deeds peruse, When I from thence obtainèd have more skill. And what I sing shall always be of thee, As long as life, or breath, remains in me. SONNET XLV. WHEN she was born, whom I entirely love, Th' immortal gods, her birth-rites forth to grace, Descending from their glorious seat above; They did on her, these several virtues place: First SATURN gave to her Sobriety; JOVE then enduèd her with Comeliness; And SOL with Wisdom did her beautify; MERCURY with Wit and Knowledge did her bless; VENUS with Beauty did all parts bedeck; LUNA therewith did Modesty combine; DIANA chaste, all loose desires did check; And like a lamp in clearness she doth shine. But MARS, according to his stubborn kind, No virtue gave; but a disdainful mind. SONNET XLVI. WHEN CHLORIS first, with her heart-robbing eye, Enchanted had my silly senses all; I little did respect LOVE's cruelty: I never thought his snares should me enthrall. But since her tresses have entangled me, My pining flock did never hear me sing Those jolly notes, which erst did make them glee; Nor do my kids about me leap and spring As they were wont: but when they hear my cry; They likewise cry, and fill the air with bleating. Then do my sheep upon the cold earth lie, And feed no more. My griefs they are repeating. O CHLORIS, if thou then sawest them and me, I am sure thou would'st both pity them and me! SONNET XLVII.