Sonnet XXXVI: Raising My Hopes

Raising my hopes on hills of high desire,

Thinking to scale the heaven of her heart,

My slender means presum'd too high a part;

Her thunder of disdain forc'd me retire,

And threw me down to pain in all this fire

Where, lo, I languish in so heavy smart,

Because th'attempt was far above my art;

Her pride brook'd not poor souls should come so nigh her.

Yet I protest my high aspiring will

Was not to dispossess her of her right;

Her sovereignty should have remained still;

I only sought the bliss to have her sight.

Her sight contented thus to see me spill,

Fram'd my desires fit for her eyes to kill.