Sonet 49

I thinke that Cipris in a high disdaine,
Barr'd by the barb'rous Turkes that conquer'd seate,
To re-erect the ruins of her state,
Comes ore their bounds t'establish beauties raigne;
And whil'st her greatnesse doth begin to rise,
As sdaining temples built of baser frame,
She in those rosie snowes t'enstall her name,
Reares stately altars in thy starrie eyes,
Before whose sacred shrine deuinely faire,
Brests boyling still with generous desires,
Fall sacrific'd with memorable fires;
The incense of whose sighes endeers the aire,
In which thy fame vnparagond doth flee,
Whil'st thou by beautie, beautie liues by thee.