Sonnet 90

STella, while now by honours cruell might,
I am from you (light of my light) misled,
And whiles faire you, my Sunne thus ouerspred
With absence vale I liue in sorrowes night.
If this darke place yet shewe by candle light
Some Beauties peece, as amber collourd hed,
Milke hands, rose cheekes, or lips more sweet more red,
Or seeming iett black, yet in blacknes bright.
They please I do confesse, they please mine eyes,
But whie? because of you they moddels be;
Moddels such be wood globes of glistering skyes:
Deare therefore be not iealous ouer me,
If you heare that they seeme my heart to moue,
Not them, no no, but you in them I loue.