Sonnet 99: The forward violet thus did I chide

1The forward violet thus did I chide:

2Sweet thief, whence didst thou steal thy sweet that smells,

3If not from my love's breath? The purple pride

4Which on thy soft cheek for complexion dwells

5In my love's veins thou hast too grossly dy'd.

6The lily I condemned for thy hand,

7And buds of marjoram had stol'n thy hair;

8The roses fearfully on thorns did stand,

9One blushing shame, another white despair;

10A third, nor red nor white, had stol'n of both,

11And to his robbery had annex'd thy breath;

12But, for his theft, in pride of all his growth

13A vengeful canker eat him up to death.

14 More flowers I noted, yet I none could see,

15 But sweet, or colour it had stol'n from thee.