Sonnet 8

MORE then most faire, full of the liuing fire

Kindled aboue unto the Maker^[1] neere:

No eies, but joyes, in which al powres conspire,

That to the world naught else be counted deare.

Thrugh your bright beams doth not the blinded guest,

Shoot out his darts to base affections wound^[2];

But Angels come, to lead fraile mindes to rest

In chast desires on heauenly beauty bound.

You frame my thoughts, and fashion me within,

You stop my toung, and teach my hart to speake,

You calme the storme that passion did begin,

Strong thrugh your cause, but by your vertue weak^[3].

Dark is the world where your light shinéd neuer;

Well is he borne that may behold you euer.

[1] maker:上帝。

[2] wound:这里的措辞比较模糊。意思是爱神丘比特通过女子的眼睛射出一簇簇伤人的爱之箭，形成强烈的欲望。

[3] weak:因为她而引起的情感风暴很强烈，但却被她美德的力量减缓。