Caelica, Sonnet VIII

SElfe-pitties teares, wherein my hope lyes drown'd,
Sighs from thoughts fire, where my desires laguish,
Despaire by humble loue of beauty crown'd,
Furrowes not worne by time, but wheeles of anguish;
Dry vp, smile, ioy, make smooth, and see
Furrowes, despaires, sighes, teares, in beauty be.

Beauty, out of whose clouds my heart teares rained,
Beauty, whose niggard fire sighs smoke did nourish,
Beauty, in whose eclipse despaires remained,
Beauty, whose scorching beames make wrinkles florish;
Time hath made free of teares sighs, and despaire,
Writing in furrowes deep; she once was faire.