Sonnet 3

THE soverayne beauty which I doo admyre,

Witnesse the world how worthy to be prayzed:

The light wherof hath kindled heavenly fyre,

In my fraile spirit, by her from basenesse raysed.

That being now with her huge brightnesse dazed,

Base thing I can no more endure to view:

But looking still on her, I stand amazed,

At wondrous sight of so celestiall hew.

So when my toung would speak her praises dew,

It stoppéd as with thoughts astonishment:

And when my pen would write her titles true,

It ravisht is with fancies wonderment.

Yet in my hart I then both speake and write,

The wonder that my wit cannot endite.