- description
- # 80
## Overview - What this is (type, form, dates, scope)
Section 80 is a text segment extracted from a larger file, likely a printed work, and is part of the "SHAKES-PRARES" chapter. The section was extracted on January 30, 2026, and is part of the "PDF Workflow Main Test 2026-01-30T00:26:53" collection. The text consists of 14 lines of verse, labeled "80".
## Context - Background and provenance from related entities
Section 80 is contained within [Chapter # SHAKES-PRARES](arke:01KG6S4CPZP73GPBKD2240HQV8), which is part of the [PDF Workflow Main Test 2026-01-30T00:26:53](arke:01KG6NWQ2H2K4PGG7H4ZHYCZ3Y) collection. The text was extracted from the file [pdf-01KG6Q7Q25RHMFT3SJXPV18VFF.txt](arke:01KG6S2X2EBB305ENM00G16GWA). Section 80 follows section 79 ([79](arke:01KG6S5JXJWR33QFJ7TFJGHJ15)) and precedes section 81 ([81](arke:01KG6S5JXMRWQPJ7PG998G70V3)) within the chapter.
## Contents - What it contains, key subjects and details
Section 80 is a poem that reflects on the speaker's feelings of inadequacy when writing about the subject of their affection, especially when compared to another poet. The speaker acknowledges the subject's worth and beauty, and the poem explores themes of love, praise, and the speaker's perceived inferiority. The final lines suggest that the speaker's love is the cause of their "decay".
- description_generated_at
- 2026-01-30T06:26:23.384Z
- description_model
- gemini-2.5-flash-lite
- description_title
- 80
- end_line
- 11708
- extracted_at
- 2026-01-30T06:24:08.806Z
- extracted_by
- structure-extraction-lambda
- start_line
- 11692
- text
- 80
How I faint when I of you do write,
Knowing a better spirit doth use your name,
And in the praise thereof spends all his might,
To make me young-side speaking of your fame.
But since your worth (wide as the Ocean is)
The humble as the proudest saile doth beare,
My sawsie barke (inferior farre to his)
On your broad maine doth wilfully appeare.
Your shallowest helpe will hold me vp a floate,
Whilst he vpon your soundlesse deepe doth ride,
Or (being wrackt) I am a worthlesse bote,
He of tall building, and of goodly pride.
Then If he thriue and I be cast away,
The worst was this, my loue was my decay.
- title
- 80