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| SONNET 9 |
| Is it for fear to wet a widow's eye |
| That thou consumest thyself in single life? |
| Ah! if thou issueless shalt hap to die. |
| The world will wail thee, like a makeless wife; |
| The world will be thy widow and still weep |
| That thou no form of thee hast left behind, |
| When every private widow well may keep |
| By children's eyes her husband's shape in mind. |
| Look, what an unthrift in the world doth spend |
| Shifts but his place, for still the world enjoys it; |
| But beauty's waste hath in the world an end, |
| And kept unused, the user so destroys it. |
| No love toward others in that bosom sits |
| That on himself such murderous shame commits. |
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