With fooles and children good discretion beares,
    Then honest people beare with Loue and me,
    Nor older yet, nor wiser made by yeeres,
    Amongst the rest of fooles and children be;
    Loues still a Baby, playes with gaudes and toyes,
    And like a wanton sports with euery feather,
    And Idiots still are running after boyes,
    Then fooles and children fitt’st to goe together;
    He still as young as when he first was borne,
    No wiser I, then when as young as he,
    You that behold vs, laugh vs not to scorne,
    Giue Nature thanks, you are not such as we;
      Yet fooles and children sometimes tell in play,
      Some wise in showe, more fooles in deede, then they.

Sonnet 27

    I heare some say, this man is not in loue,
    Who, can he loue? a likely thing they say: 
    Reade but his verse, and it will easily proue;
    O iudge not rashly (gentle Sir) I pray,
    Because I loosely tryfle in this sort,
    As one that faine his sorrowes would beguile: 
    You now suppose me, all this time in sport,
    And please your selfe with this conceit the while. 
    You shallow censures; sometime see you not
    In greatest perills some men pleasant be,
    Where fame by death is onely to be got,
    They resolute, so stands the case with me;
      Where other men, in depth of passion cry,
      I laugh at fortune, as in iest to die.

Sonnet 31

    To such as say thy loue I ouer-prize,
    And doe not sticke to terme my praises folly,
    Against these folkes that think them selues so wise,
    I thus appose my force of reason wholly,
    Though I giue more, then well affords my state,
    In which expense the most suppose me vaine,
    Would yeeld them nothing at the easiest rate,
    Yet at this price, returnes me treble gaine,
    They value not, vnskilfull how to vse,
    And I giue much, because I gaine thereby,
    I that thus take, or they that thus refuse,
    Whether are these deccaued then, or I? 
      In euery thing I hold this maxim still,
      The circumstance doth make it good or ill.

Sonnet 41

    Deare, why should you commaund me to my rest
    When now the night doth summon all to sleepe? 
    Me thinks this time becommeth louers best,
    Night was ordained together friends to keepe. 
    How happy are all other liuing things,
    Which though the day disioyne by seuerall flight,
    The quiet euening yet together brings,
    And each returnes vnto his loue at night. 
    O thou that art so curteous vnto all,
    Why shouldst thou Night abuse me onely thus,
    That euery creature to his kinde doost call,
    And yet tis thou doost onely seuer vs. 
      Well could I wish it would be euer day,
      If when night comes you bid me goe away.