SONNET VII

The world, that all contains, is ever moving; The stars within their spheres for ever turned; Nature, the queen of change, to change is loving, And form to matter new is still adjourned. Fortune, our fancy-god, to vary liketh; Place is not bound to things within it placed; The present time upon time passëd striketh; With Phoebus' wand'ring course the earth is graced. The air still moves, and by its moving cleareth; The fire up ascends and planets feedeth; The water passeth on and all lets weareth; The earth stands still, yet change of changes breedeth. Her plants, which summer ripes, in winter fade; Each creature in unconstant mother lieth; Man made of earth, and for whom earth is made, Still dying lives and living ever dieth;     Only, like fate, sweet Myra never varies,     Yet in her eyes the doom of all change carries.       Source: Poetry of the English Renaissance 1509-1660. J. William Hebel and Hoyt H. Hudson, Eds. New York: F. S. Crofts & Co., 1941. 127-128.