Shakespeare's Sonnets: If my dear love were but the child of state

If my dear love were but the child of state,It might for fortune's bastard be unfather'dAs subject to time's love, or to time's hate,Weeds among weeds, or flow'rs with flow'rs gather'd.No, it was builded far from accident;It suffers not in smiling pomp nor fallsUnder the blow of thrallèd discontentWhereto th' inviting time our fashion calls.It fears not policy, that hereticWhich works on leases of short numb'red hours,But all alone stands hugely politicThat it nor grows with heat, nor drowns with show'rs. To this I witness call the fools of time Which die for goodness, who have liv'd for crime.