Analysis of Sonnet (II)

Sure Lord, there is enough in thee to dry
   Oceans of Ink ; for, as the Deluge did
   Cover the Earth, so doth thy Majesty :
Each Cloud distills thy praise, and doth forbid
Poets to turn it to another use.
   Roses and Lillies speak thee ; and to make
   A pair of Cheeks of them, is thy abuse.
Why should I Womens eyes for Chrystal take?
Such poor invention burns in their low mind,
   Whose fire is wild, and doth not upward go
   To praise, and on thee Lord, some Ink bestow.
Open the bones, and you shall nothing find
   In the best face but filth, when Lord, in thee
   The beauty lies, in the discovery