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