Poem by Michael Drayton

Sonnet 42. Some Men there Be which like My Method Well

Some men there be which like my method well
And much commend the strangeness of my vein;
Some say I have a passing pleasing strain;
Some say that im my humor I excel;
Some, who not kindly relish my conceit,
They say, as poets do, I use to feign,
And in bare words paint out my passion's pain.
Thus sundry men their sundry words repeat;
I pass not, I, how men affected be,
Nor who commends or discommends my verse;
It pleaseth me, if I my woes rehearse,
And in my lines if she my love may see.
    Only my comfort still consists in this, 
    Writing her praise I cannot write amiss.

1. Sonnet 34. Marvel not, Love
2. Sonnet 16. Mongst all the Creatures in this Spacious Round
3. Roc
4. Sonnet 22. With Fools and Children
5. Sonnet 38. Sitting Alone, Love

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