| I NEVER saw that you did painting need | |
| And therefore to your fair no painting set; | |
| I found, or thought I found, you did exceed | |
| That barren tender of a poet’s debt: | |
| And therefore have I slept in your report, | 5 |
| That you yourself, being extant, well might show | |
| How far a modern quill doth come too short, | |
| Speaking of worth, what worth in you doth grow. | |
| This silence for my sin you did impute, | |
| Which shall be most my glory, being dumb; | 10 |
| For I impair not beauty being mute, | |
| When others would give life, and bring a tomb. | |
| There lives more life in one of your fair eyes | |
| Than both your poets can in praise devise. |