Sonnet XXXIX: Faire matchlesse Nymph, respect but what I

Faire matchlesse Nymph, respect but what I crave,
My thoughts are true, and honour is my love:
I fainting die, whome yet a smile might save:
You gave the wound, and can the hurt remove.
Those eyes, like starres, that twinkle in the night,
And cheeks like rubies pale, in lilies dy'd,
Those Ebon hands hands, that darting have such might,
That in my soule, my loue and live devide.
Accept the passions, of a man possest:
Let Love be lov'd, and graunt me leave to live:
Disperse those clouds, that darkened have my rest:
And let your heaven, a sun-like smile but give.
Then shall I praise, that heaven for such a sunne,
That saved my life, when as my griefe begun.