Yet read at last the story of my woe, <br />The dreary abstracts of my endless cares, <br />With my life's sorrow interlined so, <br />Smok'd with my sighs and blotted with my tears, <br />The sad memorials of my miseries, <br />Penn'd in the grief of mine afflicted ghost, <br />My life's complaint in doleful elegies, <br />With so pure love as Time could never boast. <br />Receive the incense which I offer here, <br />By my strong faith ascending to thy fame, <br />My zeal, my hope, my vows, my praise, my prayer, <br />My soul's oblation to thy sacred name, <br />Which name my Muse to highest heav'ns shall raise <br />By chaste desire, true love, and virtuous praise.<br /><br />Michael Drayton<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-liv-yet-read-at-last/
