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Of his lady's going over early to bed, so depriving him too soon of her sight

Fair sun, if you would have me praise your light, When night approacheth wherefore do you fly? Time is so short, beauties so many be, As I have need to see them day and night, That by continual view my verses might Tell all the beams of your divinity; Which praise to you and joy should be to me, You living by my verse, I by your sight; I by your sight, and not you by my verse, Need mortal skill immortal praise rehearse? No, no, though eyes were blind, and verse were dumb, Your beauty should be seen and your fame known; For by the wind which from my sighs do come, Your praises round about the world are blown.