Sonnet 90: Stella, Think Not That I

Stella, think not that I by verse seek fame, Who seek, who hope, who love, who live but thee; Thine eyes my pride, thy lips my history: If thou praise not, all other praise is shame. Nor so ambitious am I, as to frame A nest for praise in my young laurel tree: In truth I swear, I wish not there should be Grav'd in mine epitaph a poet's name: Ne if I would, could I just title make, That any laud to me thereof should grow, Without my plumes from others' wings I take. For nothing from my wit or will doth flow, Since all my words thy beauty doth indite, And Love doth hold my hand, and makes me write.