Poem by Michael Drayton

Sonnet 27. Is not Love

Is not Love here as 'tis in other climes,
And differeth it, as do the several nations?
Or hath it lost the virtue with the times,
Or in this island altereth with the fashions?
Or have our passions lesser power than theirs,
Who had less art them lively to express?
Is Nature grown less powerful in their heirs,
Or in our fathers did she more transgress?
I am sure my sighs come from a heart as true
As any man's that memory can boast,
And my respects and services to you
Equal with his that loves his mistress most.
    Or nature must be partial to my cause, 
    Or only you do violate her laws.

1. Sonnet 24. I Hear Some Say
2. Sonnet 48. Cupid, I Hate thee
3. Sonnet 37. Dear, why should You Command Me to My Rest
4. An Ode Written in the Peak
5. Sonnet 57. You Best Discern'd of my Mind's Inward Eyes

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