Since shunning pain, I ease ever find; Since bashful dread seeks where he knows me harmed; Since will is won, and stopped ears are charmed; Since force doth faint, and sight doth make me blind; Since loosing long, the faster still I bind; Sinaked sense quer reason armed; Since heart, in chilling fear, with ice is warmed; In fine, sirife of thought but mars the mind, I yield, O Love, unto thy loathed yoke, Yet craving law of arms, whose rule doth teach, That, hardly used, who ever prison broke, In justice quit, of honour made no breach: Whereas, if I a grateful guardian have, Thou art my lord, and I thy vowed slave.
When Love puffed up with rage of high disdain, Resolved to make me pattern of his might, Like foe, whose wits ined to deadly spite, Would often kill, to breed more feeling pain; He would not, armed with beauty, only reign On those affects which easily yield to sight; But virtue sets so high, that reasons light, For all his strife only bondage gain: So that I live to pay a mortal fee, Dead palsy-sick of all my chiefest parts, Like those whom dreams make ugly monsters see, And cry help with naught but groans and starts: Longing to have, having no wit to wish, To starving minds such is god Cupids dish.