|The ornament of beauty is suspect,
A Crow that flies in heauens sweetest ayre.
So thou be good,slander doth but approue,
Their worth the greater beeing woo'd of time,
For Canker vice the sweetest buds doth loue,
And thou present'st a pure vnstayined prime.
Thou hast past by the ambush of young daies,
Either not assayld,or victor beeing charg'd,
Yet this thy praise cannot be soe thy praise,
To tye vp enuy,euermore inlarged,
If some suspect of ill maskt not thy show,
Then thou alone kingdomes of hearts shouldst owe.
|Giue warning to the world that I am fled
From this vile world with vildest wormes to dwell:
Nay if you read this line,remember not,
The hand that writ it,for I loue you so,
That I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot,
If thinking on me then should make you woe.
O if(I say)you looke vpon this verse,
When I (perhaps) compounded am with clay,
Do not so much as my poore name reherse;
But let your loue euen with my life decay.
Least the wise world should looke into your mone,
And mocke you with me after I am gon.
|After my death(deare loue)for get me quite,
For you in me can nothing worthy proue.
Vnlesse you would deuise some vertuous lye,