Sonnet 98 By William Shakespeare

From you have I been absent in the spring, when proud -pied April, dressed in all its trim, Hath put a spirit of you in everything, The heavy Saturn laughed and leaped with him.

Yet nor the lays of birds, nor the sweet smell of different flowers in of our and in hue, Could make me any summers story tell, Or from their proud lap pluck them where they grew:

Nor did I wonder at the lily’s white, Nor praise the deep vermilion in the rose 🌹;

They were but sweet , but figure of delight

Drawn after you, -you pattern of all those

Yet seem it winter still, and, you away,

As with your shadow I with these did play.