Best Poem of E C Esquire

Sonnet Vi
Within her haire
sport them:
Sometime they twist it Amberlike in gold,
To which the whistling windes doe oft resort them,
As if they stroue to haue the knots vnrold:
Sometime they let their golden tresses dangle,
And therewith nets and amorous gins they make,
Wherewith the . . .
Read the full of Sonnet Vi
Sonnet I
When first the rage of loue assail'd my hart,
And towards my thoughts his fiery forces bent:
Eftsoones to shield me from his wounding dart,
Arm'd with disdaine, I held him in contempt.
Curld headed loue when from mount Erecine
He saw this geere, so ill thereof he brookes,
That thence he speedes vnwilling to be . . .
Read the full of Sonnet I