Classic Poem

Sonet . 7

P etharco , I protest
I will proclaime thy pride
And what it is.
By that faire Phaenix nest
Thy little hill doth hide,
In honor's blisse.
Ennie shall hate the place,
Where thou beholdest alone
Loue's Paradice:
Vnworthy of the grace,
To see that worthy one,
Of Angelles eyes
And I will raise againe,
The Poetes that are dead,
To raile on thee:
Because thou doste contriue
The spirit that hath bred,
This death in me.

M Y best fancy, flye a franzye
Keepe desiring in admiring
Beautie's nature in a creature:

Looue and honor looke vpon her
Bid the graces in their places,
To her beautie doe their duetie.

Thinke not vainely, but all plainely:
Say and sweare it, who shall heare it
She is wholy her selfe soly.

Nature's Iewell, reason's fuell,
Honor's treasure Grace's pleasure,
Passions spelling, thoughts excelling