- O how I faint when I of you do write,
- Knowing a better spirit doth use your name,
- And in the praise thereof spends all his might,
- To make me tongue-tied speaking of your fame!
- But since your worth, wide as the ocean is,
- The humble as the proudest sail doth bear,
- My saucy bark, inferior far to his,
- On your broad main doth wilfully appear.
- Your shallowest help will hold me up afloat,
- Whilst he upon your soundless deep doth ride;
- Or, being wrack’d, I am a worthless boat,
- He of tall building, and of goodly pride:
- Then if he thrive and I be cast away,
- The worst was this: my love was my decay.