Poem by Michael Drayton

Sonnet 42. Some Men there Be which like My Method Well

Some men there be which like my method well
And much commend the strangeness of my vein;
Some say I have a passing pleasing strain;
Some say that im my humor I excel;
Some, who not kindly relish my conceit,
They say, as poets do, I use to feign,
And in bare words paint out my passion's pain.
Thus sundry men their sundry words repeat;
I pass not, I, how men affected be,
Nor who commends or discommends my verse;
It pleaseth me, if I my woes rehearse,
And in my lines if she my love may see.
    Only my comfort still consists in this, 
    Writing her praise I cannot write amiss.

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. Sonnet 57. You Best Discern'd of my Mind's Inward Eyes
5. An Ode Written in the Peak

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