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A BOOK OF ENGLISH

SONNETS

UNSTABLE dream, according to the place,
Be steadfast once, or else at least be true.
By tasted sweetness, make me not to rue
The sudden loss of thy false fained grace.
By good respec t in such a dangerous case
Thou brought'st not her into these tossing seas,
But madest my sprite to live my care to increase,
My body in tempest her delight to embrace.
The body dead, the sprite had his desire.
Painless was the one, the other in delight.
Why then, alas, did it not keep it right,
But thus return to leap into the fire,
And where it was at wish, could not remain?
Such mocks of dreams do turn to deadly pain.

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SET me whereas the sun doth parch the green,
Or where his beams do not dissolve the ice:
In temperate heat where he is felt and seen:
In presence prest of people mad or wise.
Set me in high, or yet in low degree:
In longest night, or in the shortest day:
In clearest sky, or where clouds thickest be:
In lusty youth, or when my hairs are grey.
Set me in heaven, in earth, or else in hell,
In hill, or dale, or in the foaming flood:
Thrall, or at large, alive where so I dwell:
Sick, or in health: in evil fame, or good.
Hers will I be, and only with this thought
Content myself, although my chance be nought.

WITHhowsad steps,OMoon,thouclimb'st the skies,
How silently, and with how wan a face!
What! may it be, that even in heavenly place
That busy archer his sharp arrow tries?
Sure if that long with love acquainted eyes
Can judge of love, thou feel'st a lover's case;
I read it in thy looks; thy languish'd grace
To me, that feel the like, thy state descries.
Then even of fellowship, O Moon, tell me
Is constant love deem'd there but want of wit?
Are beauties there as proud as here they be?
Do they above love to be loved, and yet
Those lovers scorn whom that love doth possess?
Do they call virtue there, ungratefulness?

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