Analysis of Sonnet # 3

It's summertime, my heart indeed is sad.
And though the birds are now with their sweet song,
My heart aches much with pain that is so bad.
And my young mind does feel my life so wrong.
I think it's winter, thoughts about it, I mean
That have me nervous for my single soul.
I'll not have loving kisses, kisses clean,
Or the warm body of a female soul.
So, you can clearly see to every man
Not always fair whatever's meant by life.
And to buy pearls or gold, what poor man can?
These facts, my friend, are sharper than a knife.
       Here I shed tears for things that are not mellow.
       And then my thoughts to gentle my own sorrow.