Why is my verse so barren of new pride, So far from variation or quick change? Why with the time do I not glance aside To new-found methods and to compounds strange? Why write I still all one, ever the same, And keep invention in a noted weed, That every word doth almost tell my name, Showing their birth and where they did proceed? O, know, sweet love, I always write of you, And you and love are still my argument; So all my best is dressing old words new, Spending again what is already spent: For as the sun is daily new and old, So is my love still telling what is told. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PHANTOM by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE THE FIRST LESSON by EMILY DICKINSON THE LAMENTATION OF GLUMDALCLITCH FOR THE LOSS OF GRILDRIG by ALEXANDER POPE SONNET WRITTEN IN THE FALL OF 1914: 1 by GEORGE EDWARD WOODBERRY THE BATTLE OF QUEENSTOWN by WILLIAM BANKER JR. |