Sonnet XXVI: I live (sweete love) whereas the gentle

I live (sweete love) whereas the gentle winde,
Murmures with sport, in midst of thickest bowes,
Where loving Wood-bine, doth the Harbour binde,
And chirping birdes doe eccho foorth my vowes:
Where strongest elme, can scarce support the vine,
And sweetest flowres enameld have the ground,
Where Muses dwell, and yet hereat repine:
That on the earth so rare a place was found.
But windes delight, I wish to be content:
I praise the Wood-bine, but I take no joye:
I moane the birdes, that musicke thus have spent:
As for the rest, they breede but mine annoye.
Live thou (fayre Licia) in this place alone:
Then shall I joye, though all of these were gone.