Sonnets T-Those

Take all my loves, my love, yea, take them all
That god forbid that made me first your slave
That thou art blam'd shall not be thy
That thou hast her, it is not all my grief
That time of year thou mayst in me behold
That you were once unkind befriends me now
The expense of spirit in a waste of shame
The forward violet thus did I chide
The little Love-god lying once asleep
The other two, slight air and purging fire
Then hate me when thou wilt; if ever, now
Then let not winter's ragged hand deface
They that have power to hurt and will do none
Thine eyes I love, and they, as pitying me
Those hours, that with gentle work did frame
Those lines that I before have writ do lie
Those lips that Love's own hand did make
Those parts of thee that the world's eye doth view
Those pretty wrongs that liberty commits

First Lines in alphabetical order

Poems - Index