Sonnet XLIX: Thou Leaden Brain

Michael Drayton 1563 (Hartshill) – 1631 (London)



Thou leaden brain, which censur'st what I write,
And say'st my lines be dull and do not move,
I marvel not thou feel'st not my delight,
Which never felt'st my fiery touch of love.
But thou, whose pen hath like a pack-horse serv'd,
Whose stomach unto gall hath turn'd thy food,
Whose senses, like poor prisoners, hunger-starv'd,
Whose grief hath parch'd thy body, dried thy blood,
Thou which hast scorned life and hated death,
And in a moment mad, sober, glad, and sorry,
Thou which hast bann'd thy thoughts and curs'd thy breath
With thousand plagues, more than in Purgatory,
Thou thus whose spirit Love in his fire refines,
Come thou, and read, admire, applaud my lines.

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Submitted on May 13, 2011

Modified on March 05, 2023

38 sec read
49

Quick analysis:

Scheme ABACDEFGHIHIJJ
Closest metre Iambic pentameter
Characters 679
Words 119
Stanzas 1
Stanza Lengths 14

Michael Drayton

Michael Drayton was an English poet who came to prominence in the Elizabethan era. more…

All Michael Drayton poems | Michael Drayton Books

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