Sonnet #34

y didst thou promise such a beauteous day,
& make me travel 4th w/o my cloak,
2 let base clouds o'ertake me in my way,
Hiding thy brav'ry in thr rotten smoke?
'Tis nt enough th@ through d cloud thou break,
2 dry d rain on my storm-beaten face,
4 no man well of such a salve can speak,
th@ heals d wound, & cures nt d disgrace:
Nor can thy shame give physic 2 my grief,
Though thou repent, yet I hv still d loss,
Th' offenderz sorrow lends bt weak relief
2 him th@ bears d strong offencez cross.
Ah bt those tears R pearl which thy luv sheds,
& they R rich, & ransom all ill deeds.
See Original Sonnet

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?

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