Another to the Riuer Ankor. Sonnet 53 (Sonnet 53)

CLeere Ankor, on whose siluer-sanded shore,
My soule-shrin'd saint, my faire Idea lies,
O blessed brooke, whose milke-white swans adore
That cristall streame refined by her eyes,
Where sweet mirth-breathing Zephire in the spring,
Gently distills his Nectar-dropping showers,
Where Nightingales in Arden sit and sing,
Amongst the daintie dew-impearled flowers;
Say thus faire Brooke, when thou shalt see thy Queene,
Loe heere thy sheep heard spent his wandring yeeres;
And in these shades deere Nimph he oft hath beene.
And heere to thee he sacrifizde his teares:
Faire Arden, thou my Tempe art alone,
And thou sweete Ankor art my Helicon.