Sonnet Xxxv: Some, Misbelieving
Michael Drayton
To Miracle Some, misbelieving and profane in love, When I do speak of miracles by thee, May say, that thou art flattered by me, Who only write my skill in verse to prove. See miracles, ye unbelieving, see A dumb-born Muse made t'express the mind, A cripple hand to write, yet lame by kind, One by thy name, the other touching thee; Blind were mine eyes, till they were seen of thine, And mine ears deaf by thy fame healed be, My vices cur'd by virtues sprung from thee, My hopes reviv'd, which long in grave had lien, All unclean thoughts, foul spirits, cast out in me Only by virtue that proceeds from thee.
Next 10 Poems
- Michael Drayton : Sonnet Xxxvi: Thou Purblind Boy
- Michael Drayton : Sonnet Xxxvii: Dear, Why Should You
- Michael Drayton : Sonnet Xxxviii: Sitting Alone, Love
- Michael Drayton : The Battle Of Agincourt
- Michael Drayton : The Parting
- Michael Drayton : To His Coy Love
- Michael Drayton : To The Reader Of These Sonnets
- Michael Drayton : To The Virginian Voyage
- William Henry Drummond : A Lament
- William Henry Drummond : Change Should Breed Change
Previous 10 Poems
- Michael Drayton : Sonnet Xxxix: Some, When In Rhyme
- Michael Drayton : Sonnet Xxxiv: Marvel Not, Love
- Michael Drayton : Sonnet Xxxiii: Whilst Yet Mine Eyes
- Michael Drayton : Sonnet Xxxii: Our Flood's-queen Thames
- Michael Drayton : Sonnet Xxxi: Methinks I See
- Michael Drayton : Sonnet Xxx: Those Priests
- Michael Drayton : Sonnet Xxviii: To Such As Say
- Michael Drayton : Sonnet Xxvii: Is Not Love Here
- Michael Drayton : Sonnet Xxvi: I Ever Love
- Michael Drayton : Sonnet Xxv: O Why Should Nature