I heare some say, this man is not in loue, Who, can he loue? a likely thing they say: Reade but his verse, and it will easily proue; O iudge not rashly (gentle Sir) I pray, Because I loosely tryfle in this sort, As one that faine his sorrowes would beguile: You now suppose me, all this time in sport, And please your selfe with this conceit the while. You shallow censures; sometime see you not In greatest perills some men pleasant be, Where fame by death is onely to be got, They resolute, so stands the case with me; Where other men, in depth of passion cry, I laugh at fortune, as in iest to die. Sonnet 31 To such as say thy loue I ouer-prize, And doe not sticke to terme my praises folly, Against these folkes that think them selues so wise, I thus appose my force of reason wholly, Though I giue more, then well affords my state, In which expense the most suppose me vaine, Would yeeld them nothing at the easiest rate, Yet at this price, returnes me treble gaine, They value not, vnskilfull how to vse, And I giue much, because I gaine thereby, I that thus take, or they that thus refuse, Whether are these deccaued then, or I? In euery thing I hold this maxim still, The circumstance doth make it good or ill. Sonnet 41 Deare, why should you commaund me to my rest When now the night doth summon all to sleepe? Me thinks this time becommeth louers best, Night was ordained together friends to keepe. How happy are all other liuing things, Which though the day disioyne by seuerall flight, The quiet euening yet together brings, And each returnes vnto his loue at night. O thou that art so curteous vnto all, Why shouldst thou Night abuse me onely thus, That euery creature to his kinde doost call, And yet tis thou doost onely seuer vs. Well could I wish it would be euer day, If when night comes you bid me goe away. Sonnet 58 _To Prouerbe_ As Loue and I, late harbour'd in one Inne, With Prouerbs thus each other intertaine; _In loue there is no lacke, thus I beginne? Faire words makes fooles, replieth he againe? That spares to speake, doth spare to speed (quoth I) As well (saith he) too forward as too slow. Fortune assists the boldest, I replie? A hasty man (quoth he) nere wanted woe. Labour is light, where loue (quoth I) doth pay, (Saith he) light burthens heauy, if farre borne? (Quoth I) the maine lost, cast the by away: You haue spunne a faire thred, he replies in scorne_. And hauing thus a while each other thwarted, Fooles as we met, so fooles againe we parted. Sonnet 63 _To the high and mighty Prince, James, King of Scots_