Those lovers scorn whom that love doth possess?

Do they call virtue there ungratefulness?

Stella looked on, and from her heavenly face

After long storms and tempests' sad assay,
Which hardly I endurèd heretofore,
In dread of death, and dangerous dis-
may,

"Vain man," said she, "that dost in vain

assay

5

A mortal thing so to immortalize:
For I myself shall like to this decay,
And eke my name be wipèd out like-
wise."

"Not so," quoth I, "let baser things devise

But came the waves and washèd it away;
Again I wrote it with a second hand,
But came the tide and made my pains
his prey.

And never wake to feel the day's disdain.

When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st: So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,

So long lives this and this gives life to thee.

XXXIII

Full many a glorious morning have I seen Flatter the mountain-tops with sovereign eye,

XXIX

Kissing with golden face the meadows green,

chemy,

Desiring this man's art and that man's

scope,

With what I most enjoy contented least; Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,

Haply I think on thee, and then my state,

Suns of the world may stain, when heaven's sun staineth.

LXIV

Like to the lark at break of day arising From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate;

When I have seen by Time's fell hand defaced

In me thou see'st the twilight of such day 5
As after sunset fadeth in the west;
Which by and by black night doth take
away,

rest.

In me thou see'st the glowing of such

fire

That on the ashes of his youth doth lie, 10 As the death-bed whereon it must ex

pire,

Consumed with that which it was nourished by.

This thou perceiv'st, which makes thy love more strong,

To love that well which thou must leave ere long.

XCVIII

From you have I been absent in the spring, When proud-pied2 April dressed in all his trim

Nor did I wonder at the lily's white,
Nor praise the deep vermilion in the rose;
They were but sweet, but figures of de-
light,