Michael Drayton (Ìàéêë Äðåéòîí)

Sonnet 54. Yet Read at last the Story of My Woe

Yet read at last the story of my woe,
The dreary abstracts of my endless cares,
With my life's sorrow interlined so,
Smok'd with my sighs and blotted with my tears,
The sad memorials of my miseries,
Penn'd in the grief of mine afflicted ghost,
My life's complaint in doleful elegies,
With so pure love as Time could never boast.
Receive the incense which I offer here,
By my strong faith ascending to thy fame,
My zeal, my hope, my vows, my praise, my prayer,
My soul's oblation to thy sacred name,
    Which name my Muse to highest heav'ns shall raise 
    By chaste desire, true love, and virtuous praise.

1. To The Reader Of These Sonnets
2. Sonnet 10. To Nothing Fitter Can I thee Compare
3. Sonnet 3. Taking my Pen
4. Sonnet 63. Truce, Gentle Love, a Parley Now I Crave
5. Sonnet 49. Thou Leaden Brain

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