Sonnet XIII: I wish sometimes, although a wortlesse thing

I wish sometimes, although a wortlesse thing,
Spurd by ambition, glad for to aspyre,
My selfe a Monarch, or some mightie King:
And then my thoughtes doe wish for to be hyer.
But when I view what windes the Cedars tosse,
What stormes men seele that covet for renowne,
I blame my selfe that I have wisht my losse,
And scorne a kindgome, though it give a crowne.
A'Licia thou, the wonder of my thought,
My heartes content, procurer of my blisse,
For whome a crowne, I doe esteme as nought,
And Asias wealth, too meane to buy a kisse,
Kisse me sweete love, this favour doe for me:
Then Crownes and Kingdomes shall I scrone for thee.