I look upon myself and curse my fate
Shall I compare You to a winter's day?
Pull down Your vanity, I say pull down!
A world of made is not a world of born
I all alone beweep my outcast state
and my eternal spring it shall not fade
Some safer worlds in depth of wood embrace
The stars move still with sound of glace
And all the air a solemn stillness holds
My ear is much enarmoured of Your silent notes
What angel wakes me from my flowered bed?
Oh, You have killed my sleeping fairy-land
I pray You gentle mortal, sing again,
I'm wandering 'til truth makes all things plain
By moonshine did these lovers think no scorn
to stay but here awhile most radiantly
How glorious once above thy sphere