Sonnet. 15 (Sonnet 15)

VIewing the glasse of my youthes miseries,
I see the face of my deformed eares,
With withered browes, all wrinckled with dispaires,
That for my youth the teares fall from mine eyes,
Then in these teares the mirrors of these eyes,
Thy fairest youth and be …y do I see,
Imprinted there by looking still on thee;
Thus midst my woes, ten thousand ioyes arise.
Yet in these ioyes the shadowes of my good,
In this fa…e limmed ground as white as snow,
Painted the blackest image of my woe,
With murthring hands imbrude in mine owne blood;
And in this image his darke clowdy eyes,
My life, and loue, I heere anatomi…e.