Sonet 87

Those beauties (Deare) which all thy sexe enuies, As grieu'd men should such sacred wonders view: For pompe apparel'd in a purple hue, Do whiles disdaine the pride of mortall eyes, Which, ah, attempting farre aboue their might, Do gaze vpon the glorie of those Sunnes, Whil'st many a ray that from their brightnesse runnes, Doth dazle all that dare looke on their light: Or was it this, which ô I feare me most, That cled with scarlet, so thy purest parts, Thy face it hauing wounded worlds of harts, Would die her Lillies with the bloud they lost: Thus ere thy cruelties were long conceal'd, They by thy guiltie blush would be reueal'd.