My tears are true. Though others be divine, And sing of wars and Troy's new rising frame, Meeting heroic feet in every line, That tread high measures in the scene of fame, And I, though disaccustoming my muse, And sing but low songs in an humble vein, May one day raise my style as others use, And turn Elizon to a higher strain. When re-intombing from oblivious ages In better stanzas her surviving wonder, I may opposed against the monster rage That part desert and excellence asunder; That she though coy may yet survive to see, Her beauty's wonder lives again in me. V _Conclusion of the whole_ Sometimes in verse I praised, sometimes in verse sighed; No more shall pen with love and beauty mell, But to my heart alone my heart shall tell How unseen flames do burn it day and night, Lest flames give light, light bring my love to sight, And my love prove my folly to excel. Wherefore my love burns like the fire of hell, Wherein is fire and yet there is no light; For if one never loved like me, then why Skill-less blames he the thing he doth not know? And he that so hath loved should favour show, For he hath been a fool as well as I. Thus shall henceforth more pain, more folly have; And folly past, may justly pardon crave. A CALCULATION UPON THE BIRTH OF AN HONOURABLE LADY'S DAUGHTER, BORN IN THE YEAR 1588 AND ON A FRIDAY Fair by inheritance, whom born we see Both in the wondrous year and on the day Wherein the fairest planet beareth sway, The heavens to thee this fortune doth decree! Thou of a world of hearts in time shall be A monarch great, and with one beauty's ray So many hosts of hearts thy face shall slay, As all the rest for love shall yield to thee, But even as Alexander when he knew His father's conquests wept, lest he should leave No kingdom unto him for to subdue: So shall thy mother thee of praise bereave; So many hearts already she hath slain, As few behind to conquer shall remain. SONNETS FROM THE MANUSCRIPT EDITION, NOT FOUND IN THAT OF 1594 I _Of the sudden surprising of his heart, and how unawares he was caught_ Delight in your bright eyes my death did breed, As light and glittering weapons babes allure To play with fire and sword, and so procure Then to be burnt and hurt ere they take heed, Thy beauty so hath made me burn and bleed; Yet shall my ashes and my blood assure Thy beauty's fame forever to endure; For thy fame's life from my death doth proceed; Because my heart to ashes burned giveth Life to thy fame, thou right a phoenix art, And like a pelican thy beauty liveth By sucking blood out of my breast and heart. Lo why with wonder we may thee compare Unto the pelican and phoenix rare! II