Sonnet XXX: Whether the Turkish New Moon
Whether the Turkish new moon minded beTo fill his horns this year on Christian coast;How Poles' right king means, with leave of host,To warm with ill-made fire cold Muscovy;
If French can yet three parts in one agree;What now the Dutch in their full diets boast;How Holland hearts, now so good towns be lost,Trust in the shade of pleasing Orange tree;
How Ulster likes of that same golden bitWherewith my father once made it half tame;If in the Scotch court be no welt'ring yet:
These questions busy wits to me do frame.I, cumber'd with good manners, answer do,But know not how, for still I think of you.
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