Tho' I've no 'scope to witness distant spheres
Nor fortune, bribing way to travel space...

To dearest love of mine, that has yet been:
Tho' sight reveals you not, by love I know...

It does appear to me that souls' deceased;
Whom died by cancer's deadly spread of mole...

To lay amidst the sweetest ocean breeze:
And nestle me to sand a sandy bed...

A poet suffers for his part;
In penning that which stains his heart...

I must compare you to the spring in May!
You warmth a light too have my winter's done...

My eyes know beauty's art has need for praise;
For beauty stares itself into defect...

Let he, whom in my kingdom, read here wise:
Your eyeslids best be closed when near my love...

How does your beauty fair in Godly realms?
My eyes have placed you there for such compare...

As I now ponder through the many years
I sift regrets as if to deal with cards...

If fifty suitors claim their love for you
And mine include, how could you end with me...

If found her beauty, then have found my eyes:
As painter's draw their muse, do mine of hers...