S O N N E T S.

   Then giue me welcome,next my heauen the best,
   Euen to thy pure and most most louing brest.
O For my sake doe you with fortune chide,
The guiltie goddesse of my harmfull deeds,
That did not better for my life prouide,
Then publick meanes which publick manners breeds.
Thence comes it that my name receiues a brand,
And almost thence my nature is subdu'd
To what it workes in,like the Dyers hand,
Pitty me then,and wish I were renu'de,
Whilst like a willing pacient I will drinke,
Potions of Eysell gainst my strong infection,
No bitternesse that I will bitter thinke,
Nor double pennance to correct correction.
   Pittie me then deare friend,and I assure yee,
   Euen that your pittie is enough to cure mee.
Y Our loue and pittie doth th'impression fill,
Which vulgar scandall stampt vpon my brow,
For what care I who calles me well or ill,
So you ore-greene my bad,my good alow?
You are my All the world,and I must striue,
To know my shames and praises from your tounge,
None else to me,nor I to none aliue,
That my steel'd sence or changes right or wrong,
In so profound Abisme.I throw all care
Of others voyces,that my Adders sence,
To cryttick and to flatterer stopped are:
Marke how with my neglect I doe dispence.
   You are so strongly in my purpose bred,
   That all the world besides me thinkes y'are dead.
S Ince I left you,mine eye is in my minde,
And that which gouernes me to goe about,
Doth part his function,and is partly blind,

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