The Sonnets

Let not my love be callʼd idolatry,

Nor my beloved as an idol show,

Since all alike my songs and praises be

To one, of one, still such, and ever so.

Kind is my love to-day, to-morrow kind,

Still constant in a wondrous excellence;

Therefore my verse to constancy confinʼd,

One thing expressing, leaves out difference.

ʼFair, kind, and true,ʼ is all my argument,

ʼFair, kind, and true,ʼ varying to other words;

And in this change is my invention spent,

Three themes in one, which wondrous scope affords.

Fair, kind, and true, have often livʼd alone,

Which three till now, never kept seat in one.