Poem by Michael Drayton

Sonnet 35. Some, Misbelieving and Profane in Love

    To Miracle

Some, misbelieving and profane in love,
When I do speak of miracles by thee,
May say, that thou art flattered by me,
Who only write my skill in verse to prove.
See miracles, ye unbelieving, see
A dumb-born Muse made t'express the mind,
A cripple hand to write, yet lame by kind,
One by thy name, the other touching thee;
Blind were mine eyes, till they were seen of thine,
And mine ears deaf by thy fame healed be,
My vices cur'd by virtues sprung from thee,
My hopes reviv'd, which long in grave had lien*,      [lain]
    All unclean thoughts, foul spirits, cast out in me 
    Only by virtue that proceeds from thee.

1. Sonnet 37. Dear, why should You Command Me to My Rest
2. Sonnet 46. Plain-path'd Experience
3. Sonnet 27. Is not Love
4. Sonnet 57. You Best Discern'd of my Mind's Inward Eyes
5. Sonnet 19. You Cannot Love

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