Noted Weed

Sonnets, [76]. “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.”


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