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.