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Romantic, Michael Drayton, in English Clear filters

RomanticMichael Drayton

Sonnet XLIX: Thou Leaden Brain

Thou leaden brain, which censur'st what I write, And say'st my lines be dull and do not move, I marvel not thou feel'st not my delight, Which never felt'st my fiery touch of love. But thou, whose pen hath like a pack-horse serv'd, Whose stomach unto gall hath turn'd thy food, Whose senses, like poor prisoners, hunger-starv'd, Whose grief hath parch'd thy body, dried thy blood, Thou which hast scorned life and hated death, And in a moment mad, sober, glad, and sorry, Thou which hast bann'd thy thoughts and curs'd thy breath With thousand plagues, more than in Purgatory, Thou thus whose spirit Love in his fire refines, Come thou, and read, admire, applaud my lines.
RomanticMichael Drayton

Sonnet XVI: Mongst All the Creatures

An Allusion to the Phoenix 'Mongst all the creatures in this spacious round Of the birds' kind, the Phoenix is alone, Which best by you of living things is known; None like to that, none like to you is found. Your beauty is the hot and splend'rous sun, The precious spices be your chaste desire, Which being kindled by that heav'nly fire, Your life so like the Phoenix's begun; Yourself thus burned in that sacred flame, With so rare sweetness all the heav'ns perfuming, Again increasing as you are consuming, Only by dying born the very same; And, wing'd by fame, you to the stars ascend, So you of time shall live beyond the end.
RomanticMichael Drayton

Sonnet LXII: When First I Ended

When first I ended, then I first began, The more I travell'd, further from my rest, Where most I lost, there most of all I wan, Pined with hunger rising from a feast. Methinks I fly, yet want I legs to go, Wise in conceit, in act a very sot, Ravish'd with joy amid a hell of woe; What most I seem, that surest am I not. I build my hopes a world above the sky, Yet with the mole I creep into the earth; In plenty I am starv'd with penury, And yet I surfeit in the greatest dearth. I have, I want, despair and yet desire, Burn'd in a sea of ice and drown'd amidst a fire.
RomanticMichael Drayton

Sonnet IV: Bright Star of Beauty

Bright star of beauty, on whose eyelids sit A thousand nymph-like and enamour'd Graces, The Goddesses of Memory and Wit, Which there in order take their several places; In whose dear bosom sweet delicious Love Lays down his quiver, which he once did bear, Since he that blessed Paradise did prove, And leaves his mother's lap to sport him there. Let others strive to entertain with words; My soul is of a braver metal made; I hold that vile which vulgar wit affords; In me's that faith which Time cannot invade. Let what I praise be still made good by you; Be you most worthy, whilst I am most true.
RomanticMichael Drayton

Sonnet LXI: Since There's No Help

Since there's no help, come, let us kiss and part, Nay, I have done, you get no more of me, And I am glad, yea, glad with all my heart, That thus so cleanly I myself can free. Shake hands for ever, cancel all our vows, And when we meet at any time again Be it not seen in either of our brows That we one jot of former love retain. Now at the last gasp of Love's latest breath, When, his pulse failing, Passion speechless lies, When Faith is kneeling by his bed of death, And Innocence is closing up his eyes, Now, if thou wouldst, when all have giv'n him over, From death to life thou might'st him yet recover.
RomanticMichael Drayton

Sonnet LIII: Clear Anker

Another to the River Anker Clear Anker, on whose silver-sanded shore My soul-shrin'd saint, my fair Idea, lies, O blessed brook, whose milk-white swans adore The crystal stream refined by her eyes, Where sweet myrrh-breathing Zephyr in the Spring Gently distils his nectar-dropping showers, Where nightingales in Arden sit and sing Among the dainty dew-impearled flowers; Say thus, fair Brook, when thou shalt see thy Queen, "Lo, here thy shepherd spent his wand'ring years, And in these shades, dear nymph, he oft hath been, And here to thee he sacrific'd his tears." Fair Arden, thou my Tempe art alone, And thou, sweet Anker, art my Helicon.
RomanticMichael Drayton

Sonnet LVI: When Like an Eaglet

When like an eaglet I first found my Love, For that the virtue I thereof would know, Upon the nest I set it forth to prove If it were of that kingly kind or no; But it no sooner say my Sun appear, But on her rays with open eyes it stood, To show that I had hatch'd it for the air And rightly came from that brave mounting brood; And, when the plumes were summ'd with sweet desire, To prove the pinions it ascends the skies; Do what I could, it needsly would aspire To my Soul's Sun, those two celestial eyes. Thus from my breast, where it was bred alone, It after thee is, like an eaglet, flown.
RomanticMichael Drayton

Sonnet XXXV: Some, Misbelieving

To Miracle Some, misbelieving and profane in love, When I do speak of miracles by thee, May say, that thou art flattered by me, Who only write my skill in verse to prove. See miracles, ye unbelieving, see A dumb-born Muse made t'express the mind, A cripple hand to write, yet lame by kind, One by thy name, the other touching thee; Blind were mine eyes, till they were seen of thine, And mine ears deaf by thy fame healed be, My vices cur'd by virtues sprung from thee, My hopes reviv'd, which long in grave had lien, All unclean thoughts, foul spirits, cast out in me Only by virtue that proceeds from thee.

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