LXXVI. Why is my verse so barren of new pride
        
          Why is my verse so barren of new pride,
          So far from variation or quick change?
          Why with the time do I not glance aside
          To new- found methods, and to compounds strange?
          Why write I still all one, ever the same,
          And keep invention in a noted weed,
          That every word doth almost tell my name,
          Showing their birth, and where they did proceed?
          O! know sweet love I always write of you,
          And you and love are still my argument;
          So all my best is dressing old words new,
          Spending again what is already spent:
          		 For as the sun is daily new and old,
          		 So is my love still telling what is told.