The First Decade. Sonnet VII. Falsely doth Envy of your praises blame

Henry Constable (1562–1613)

FALSELY doth Envy of your praises blame

My tongue, my pen, my heart of flattery:

Because I said, “There was no sun but thee!”

It called my tongue “the partial trump of Fame.”

And saith my pen hath flatterèd thy name,

Because my pen did to my tongue agree;

And that my heart must needs a flatterer be,

Which taught both tongue and pen to say the same.

No, no, I flatter not when thee I call

The sun, sith that the sun was never such:

But when the sun, thee I compared withal;

Doubtless the sun I flatterèd too much.

Witness mine eyes, I say the truth in this!

They have seen thee, and know that so it is.