Sonet 8

Nothing but no and I, and I and no,
How falls it out so strangely you reply?
I tell yee (Faire) Ile not be aunswered so,
With this affirming no, denying I,
I say I loue, you slightly aunswer I?
I say you loue, you pule me out a no;
I say I die, you eccho me with I,
Saue me I cry, you sigh me out a no:
Must woe and I, haue naught but no and I?
No, I am I, If I no more can haue,
Aunswer no more, with silence make reply,
And let me take my selfe what I doe craue;
    Let no and I, with I and you be so,
    Then aunswer no, and I, and I, and no.

Michael Drayton

Michael Drayton was an English poet who produced a variety of work, including historical poems, sonnets, and a vast poem on the geography of England. His most significant contribution to poetry is the long historical epic "Poly-Olbion" which describes the topography and history of England and Wales. Drayton's poetry often reflects his staunch patriotism and deep scholarly interest in English history.

Michael Drayton

Sonnet 31

Michael Drayton, Simple Poetry

Sonet 11 To The Moone

Michael Drayton, Simple Poetry

Sonnets: Idea XXXIII To Imagination

Michael Drayton, Simple Poetry

Sonnet 66 To the Lady L.S.

Michael Drayton, Simple Poetry

English

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Sonnets: Idea V

Nothing but "No!" and "I!"^[A] and "I!" and "No!"
"How falls it out so strangely?" you reply.
I tell ye, Fair, I'll not be answered so,
With this affirming "No!" denying "I!"
I say "I love!" You slightly answer "I!"
I say "You love!" You pule me out a "No!"
I say "I die!" You echo me with "I!"
"Save me!" I cry; you sigh me out a "No!"
Must woe and I have naught but "No!" and "I!"?
No "I!" am I, if I no more can have.
Answer no more; with silence make reply,
And let me take myself what I do crave;
    Let "No!" and "I!" with I and you be so,
    Then answer "No!" and "I!" and "I!" and "No!"

Michael Drayton

Sonet 21

You cannot loue my pretty hart, and why?
There was a time, you told me that you would,
But now againe you will the same deny,
If it might please you, would to God you could;
What will you hate? nay, that you will not neither,
Nor loue, nor hate, how then? what will you do,
What will you keepe a meane then betwixt eyther?
Or will you loue me, and yet hate me to?
Yet serues not this, what next, what other shift?
You will, and will not, what a coyle is heere,
I see your craft, now I perceaue your drift,
And all this while, I was mistaken there.
    Your loue and hate is this, I now doe proue you,
    You loue in hate, by hate to make me loue you.

Michael Drayton

Sonet 13

You not alone, when you are still alone,
O God from you that I could priuate be,
Since you one were, I neuer since was one,
Since you in me, my selfe since out of me
Transported from my selfe into your beeing
Though either distant, present yet to eyther,
Senceles with too much ioy, each other seeing,
And onely absent when we are together.
Giue me my selfe, and take your selfe againe,
Deuise some means but how I may forsake you,
So much is mine that doth with you remaine,
That taking what is mine, with me I take you,
    You doe bewitch me, O that I could flie
    From my selfe you, or from your owne selfe I.

Michael Drayton

Sonet 9

Loue once would daunce within my Mistres eye,
And wanting musique fitting for the place,
Swore that I should the Instrument supply,
And sodainly presents me with her face:
Straightwayes my pulse playes liuely in my vaines,
My panting breath doth keepe a meaner time,
My quau'ring artiers be the Tenours Straynes,
My trembling sinewes serue the Counterchime,
My hollow sighs the deepest base doe beare,
True diapazon in distincted sound:
My panting hart the treble makes the ayre,
And descants finely on the musiques ground;
    Thus like a Lute or Violl did I lye,
    Whilst the proud slaue daunc'd galliards in her eye.

Michael Drayton

Sonnet 61

Since there 's no helpe, Come let vs kisse and part,
Nay, I haue done: You get no more of Me,
And I am glad, yea glad withall my heart,
That thus so cleanly, I my Selfe can free,
Shake hands for euer, Cancell all our Vowes,
And when we meet at any time againe,
Be it not scene in either of our Browes,
That We one iot of former Loue reteyne;
Now at the last gaspe of Loues latest Breath,
When his Pulse fayling, Passion speechlesse lies,
When Faith is kneeling by his bed of Death,
And Innocence is closing vp his Eyes,
    Now if thou would'st, when all haue giuen him ouer,
    From Death to Life, thou might'st him yet recouer.

Michael Drayton

Sonnets: Idea XXIV

I hear some say, "This man is not in love!"
"Who! can he love? a likely thing!" they say.
"Read but his verse, and it will easily prove!"
O, judge not rashly, gentle Sir, I pray!
    Because I loosely trifle in this sort,
As one that fain his sorrows would beguile,
You now suppose me all this time in sport,
And please yourself with this conceit the while.
    Ye shallow cens'rers! sometimes, see ye not,
In greatest perils some men pleasant be,
Where fame by death is only to be got,
They resolute! So stands the case with me.
    Where other men in depth of passion cry,
    I laugh at fortune, as in jest to die.

Michael Drayton