From you have I been absent in the spring... (Sonnet XCVIII) Lyrics

From you have I been absent in the spring

When proud-pied April, dress'd in all his trim

Hath put a spirit of youth in every thing

That heavy Saturn laugh'd and leap'd with him

Yet nor the lays of birds, nor the sweet smell

Of different flowers in odour and in hue

Could make me any summer's 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 figures of delight

Drawn after you, you pattern of all those

Yet seem'd it winter still, and you away

As with your shadow I with these did play

Nor did I wonder at the lily's white

Nor praise the deep vermilion in the rose

They were but sweet, but figures of delight

Drawn after you, you pattern of all those

Nor did I wonder at the lily's white

Nor praise the deep vermilion in the rose

They were but sweet, but figures of delight

Drawn after you, you pattern of all those

Nor did I wonder at the lily's white

Nor praise the deep vermilion in the rose

They were but sweet, but figures of delight

Drawn after you, you pattern of all those