Sonnet 7: Lo! in the orient when the gracious light

1Lo! in the orient when the gracious light

2Lifts up his burning head, each under eye

3Doth homage to his new-appearing sight,

4Serving with looks his sacred majesty;

5And having climb'd the steep-up heavenly hill,

6Resembling strong youth in his middle age,

7Yet mortal looks adore his beauty still,

8Attending on his golden pilgrimage:

9But when from highmost pitch, with weary car,

10Like feeble age, he reeleth from the day,

11The eyes, 'fore duteous, now converted are

12From his low tract, and look another way:

13 So thou, thyself outgoing in thy noon:

14 Unlook'd, on diest unless thou get a son.