THAT thou art blamd
shall not be thy defect |
|
For slanders mark was ever yet the
fair; |
|
The ornament of beauty is suspect, |
|
A crow that flies in heavens sweetest
air. |
|
So thou be good, slander doth but approve |
5 |
Thy worth the greater, being wood of
time; |
|
For canker vice the sweetest buds doth love, |
|
And thou presentst a pure unstained
prime. |
|
Thou hast passd by the ambush of young
days, |
|
Either not assaild, or victor being
chargd; |
10 |
Yet this thy praise cannot be so thy praise, |
|
To tie up envy evermore enlargd: |
|
If some suspect of ill maskd
not thy show, |
|
Then thou alone kingdoms of hearts
shouldst owe. |
|