Sonnets I

I grant thou wert not married to my Muse
I never saw that you did painting need
If my dear love were but the child of state
If the dull substance of my flesh were thought
If there be nothing new, but that which is
If thou survive my well-contented day
If thy soul check thee that I come so near
In faith, I do not love thee with mine eyes
In loving thee thou know'st I am forsworn
In the old age black was not counted fair
Is it for fear to wet a widow's eye
Is it thy will thy image should keep open

First Lines in alphabetical order

Poems - Index