Sonnet 98. From you have I been absent in the spring

From you have I been absent in the spring

When proud-pied April (dressed in all his trim)

Hath put a spirit of youth in every thing:

That heavy Saturn laughed and leaped with him.

Yet nor the lays of birds, nor the sweet smell

Of different flowers in odour and in hue

Could make me any summer's story tell:

Or from their proud lap pluck them where they grew: