Sonnet 1

I Know that all beneath the Moon decaies,
And what by Mortalls in this World is brought,
In Times great Periods shall returne to nought;
That fairest States have fatall Nights and Daies.
I know that all the Muses heavenly Layes,
With Toyle of Spright, which are so dearely bought,
As idle sounds, of few, or none are sought,
That there is nothing lighter than vaine Praise.
I know fraile Beauty like the purple Floure,
To which one Morne oft Birth and Death affords,
That Love a jarring is of Minds Accords,
Where Sense and Will bring under Reasons Power:
Know what I list, this all can not me move,
But that (alas) I both must write, and love.