Why is my verse so barren of new pride, So far from variation or quick change? Why, with the time, do I not glance aside To newfound methods and to compounds strange? Why write I still all one, ever the same, And keep invention in a noted weed, That every word doth almost tell my name, Showing their birth, and where they did proceed? O, know, sweet love, I always write of you, And you and love are still my argument; So all my best is dressing old words new, Spending again what is already spent: For as the sun is daily new and old, So is my love still telling what is told. Q: What is the rhyme scheme of this poem? ______________________ (In small letters)