Page 18

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The text of the first sonnet, which we read along with Echo.

FRom fairest creatures we desire increase,

That thereby beauties Rose might never die,

But as the riper should by time decease,

His tender heir might bear his memory:

But thou contracted to thine own bright eyes,

Feed'st thy lights flame with self-substantial fuel,

Making a famine where abundance lies,

Thy self thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel:

Thou that art now the worlds fresh ornament,

And only herald to the gaudy spring,

Within thine own bud buriest thy content,

And tender churl makest waste in niggarding:

   Pity the world, or else this glutton be,

   To eat the worlds due, by the grave and thee.

For a detailed breakdown of the sonnet, check out this video or follow the links in its description!

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