Sonnet 47

In pride of wit, when high desire of fame
Gaue life and courage to my labouring pen,
And first the sound and vertue of my name,
Won grace and credit in the eares of men:
With those the thronged Theaters that presse,
I in the circuite for the Lawrell stroue,
Where the full praise I freely must confesse,
In heate of blood a modest minde might moue:
With showts and daps at euerie little pawse,
When the prowd round on euerie side hath rung,
Sadly I sit vnmou'd with the applawse,
As though to me it nothing did belong:
    No publique glorie vainely I pursue,
    The praise I striue, is to eternize you.

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

Amour 44

Michael Drayton, Simple Poetry

Amour 33

Michael Drayton, Simple Poetry

Sonnet 27

Michael Drayton, Simple Poetry

Sonnets: Idea XXVIII

Michael Drayton, Simple Poetry

English

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Sonnets: Idea XLVII

In pride of wit, when high desire of fame
Gave life and courage to my lab'ring pen,
And first the sound and virtue of my name
Won grace and credit in the ears of men,
    With those the throngèd theatres that press,
I in the circuit for the laurel strove,
Where the full praise I freely must confess,
In heat of blood a modest mind might move;
    With shouts and claps at every little pause,
When the proud round on every side hath rung,
Sadly I sit unmoved with the applause,
As though to me it nothing did belong.
    No public glory vainly I pursue;
    All that I seek is to eternise you.

Michael Drayton

Sonnet 31

To such as say thy loue I ouer-prize,
And doe not sticke to terme my praises folly,
Against these folkes that think them selues so wise,
I thus appose my force of reason wholly,
Though I giue more, then well affords my state,
In which expense the most suppose me vaine,
Would yeeld them nothing at the easiest rate,
Yet at this price, returnes me treble gaine,
They value not, vnskilfull how to vse,
And I giue much, because I gaine thereby,
I that thus take, or they that thus refuse,
Whether are these deccaued then, or I?
    In euery thing I hold this maxim still,
    The circumstance doth make it good or ill.

Michael Drayton

Sonnets: Idea IV

Bright star of beauty, on whose eyelids sit
A thousand nymph-like and enamoured 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 blessèd 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 mettle 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!

Michael Drayton

Sonnet 66 To the Lady L.S.

Bright starre of Beauty, on whose eyelids sit,
A thousand Nimph-like and enamoured Graces,
The Goddesses of memory and wit,
Which in due order take their seuerall places,
In whose deare bosome, sweet delicious loue,
Layes downe his quiuer, that he once did beare,
Since he that blessed Paradice did proue,
Forsooke his mothers lap to sport him there.
Let others striue to entertaine with words,
My soule is of another temper made;
I hold it vile that vulgar wit affords,
Deuouring time my faith, shall not inuade:
    Still let my praise be honoured thus by you,
    Be you most worthy, whilst I be most true.

Michael Drayton

Sonnets: Idea XLII

Some men there be which like my method well,
    And much commend the strangeness of my vein;
    Some say I have a passing pleasing strain,
Some say that in my humour I excel.
Some who not kindly relish my conceit,
    They say, as poets do, I use to feign,
    And in bare words paint out by passions' pain.
Thus sundry men their sundry minds repeat.
I pass not, I, how men affected be,
    Nor who commends or discommends my verse!
    It pleaseth me if I my woes rehearse,
And in my lines if she my love may see.
    Only my comfort still consists in this,
    Writing her praise I cannot write amiss.

Michael Drayton

Sonet 45

Thou leaden braine, which censur'st what I write,
And say'st my lines be dull and doe not moue,
I meruaile not thou feelst not my delight,
Which neuer felt my fiery tuch of loue.
But thou whose pen hath like a Pack-horse seru'd,
Whose stomack vnto gaule hath turn'd thy foode,
Whose sences like poore prisoners hunger-staru'd,
Whose griefe hath parch'd thy body, dry'd thy blood.
Thou which hast scorned life, and hated death,
And in a moment mad, sober, glad, and sorry,
Thou which hast band thy thoughts and curst thy breath,
With thousand plagues more then in purgatory.
    Thou thus whose spirit Loue in his fire refines,
    Come thou and reade, admire, applaud my lines.

Michael Drayton