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Sonnet Xxxiii

Rating: 2.6
GReat wrong I doe, I can it not deny,
to that most sacred Empresse my dear dred,
not finishing her Queene of faery,
that mote enlarge her liuing prayses dead:
But lodwick, this of grace to me aread:
doe ye not thinck th'accomplishment of it,
sufficient worke for one mans simple head,
all were it as the rest but rudely writ.
How then should I without another wit:
thinck euer to endure so taedious toyle,
sins that this one is tost with troublous fit,
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5/18/2021 4:04:26 PM # 1.0.0.581