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Pallas Athene

SONNET NO. 83

 

     I never saw that you  did painting need
     And therefore to your fair  no painting set;
     I found (or thought I found) you  did exceed
     The barren tender of a poets debt:
     And therefore have I slept in your report,
     That you, yourself being extant, well might show,
     How far a modern quill doth come too short
     Speaking of worth, what worth in you doth grow,
     This silence for my sin you did impute
     Which shall be most, my glory being dumb;
     For I impair not beauty being mute
     When others would give life and bring a tomb
     There lives more life in one of your fair eyes
     Than both your poets  can in praise devise.

 

 

 

 

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