Diliet Kubrom

Abby Jones

Ms. Gardner

English H10-Period 4

1 September 2016

Sonnet 86

great verse, A
Was it the proud full sail of his

Bound precious you, B
for the prize of all too

That did my ripe thoughts in my brain inhearse, A

Making their
tomb the womb wherein they grew? B

Was it his spirit, by spirits taught to write C

Above a mortal pitch, that struck me dead? D

No, neither he, nor his compeers by night C

my verse astonished. D
Giving him aid,

He, nor that affable familiar ghost E

Which nightly gulls him with intelligence, F

As victors of my silence cannot boast; E

sick of any fear from thence: F

I was not

countenance filled up his line, G

But when your

I matter; that enfeebled mine. G

Then lacked