Sonnet 15

YOu that doe search for euery purling spring,
Which from the rybs of old Pernassus flowes,
And euery flower (not sweete perhaps) which growes
Neere there about, into your Poems wring.
You that doe dictionary method bring
Into your rymes, running in ratling rowes,
You that old Petrarchs long deceased woes
With new borne sighes, and wit disguised sing;
You take wrong wayes, those far-fet helps be such,
As doe bewray a want of inward tutch,
And sure at length stolne goods doe come to light.
But if both for your loue and skill you name,
You seeke to nurse at fullest brest of Fame,
Stella behold and then begin to write.