S O N N E T S.

Is more then my ore-prest defence can bide?
Let me excuse thee,ah my loue well knowes,
Her prettie lookes haue beene mine enemies,
And therefore from my face she turnes my foes,
That they else-where might dart their iniuries :
   Yet do not so,but since I am neere slaine,
   Kill me out-right with lookes,and rid my paine.
B E wise as thou art cruell,do not presse
My toung-tide patience with too much disdaine :
Least sorrow lend me words and words expresse,
The manner of my pittie wanting paine.
If I might teach thee witte better it weare,
Though not to loue,yet loue to tell me so,
As testie sick-men when their deaths be neere,
No newes but health from their Phisitions know.
For if I should dispaire I should grow madde,
And in my madnesse might speake ill of thee,
Now this ill wresting world is growne so bad,
Madde slanderers by madde eares beleeued be.
   That I may not be so, nor thou be lyde,          (wide.
   Beare thine eyes straight , though thy proud heart goe
I N faith I doe not loue thee with mine eyes,
For they in thee a thousand errors note,
But now is blacke beauties successiue heire,
But 'tis my heart that loues what they dispise,
Who in dispight of view is pleasd to dote.
Nor are mine eares with thy toungs tune delighted,
Nor tender feeling to base touches prone,
Nor taste, nor smell, desire to be inuited
To any sensuall feast with thee alone:
But my fiue wits,nor my fiue sences can
Diswade one foolish heart from seruing thee,
Who leaues vnswai'd the likenesse of a man,
Thy proud hearts slaue and vassall wretch to be:
   Onely my plague thus farre I count my gaine,
   That she that makes me sinne,awards me paine.
I 2 Loue

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