SIR HENRY WOTTON.
Reading edition
100. On his Mistress, the Queen of Bohemia.
You meaner beauties of the night, That poorly satisfy our eyes, More by your number, than your light, You common people of the skies; What are you when the moon shall rise? You curious chanters of the wood, That warble forth Dame Nature's lays, Thinking your passions understood By your weak accents; what's your praise, When Philomel her voice shall raise? You violets that first appear, By your pure purple mantles known, Like the proud virgins of the year, As if the spring were all your own; What are you when the rose is blown? So, when my mistress shall be seen In form and beauty of her mind, By virtue first, then choice, a Queen, Tell me if she were not design'd Th' eclipse and glory of her kind? 1845 Edition.
Transcriber's Note
Poem titles found in the original Table of Contents have been added to the blank poem numbers within the text, and sonnet numbers found in the original text have been added in the Table of Contents, for consistency.