For if my place give me great pleasure, Having before my nature’s treasure, In face and eyes unmatchéd being, You have the same in my hands, seeing What in your face mine eyes do measure. Nor think the match unevenly made, That of those beams in you do tarry, The glass to you but gives a shade, To me mine eyes the true shape carry; For such a thought most highly prized, Which ever hath Love’s yoke despised, Better than one captived perceiveth, Though he the lively form receiveth, The other sees it but disguised. SONNETS. THE dart, the beams, the sting, so strong I prove, Which my chief part doth pass through, parch, and tie, That of the stroke, the heat, and knot of love, Wounded, inflamed, knit to the death, I die. Hardened and cold, far from affection’s snare Was once my mind, my temper, and my life; While I that sight, desire, and vow forbare, Which to avoid, quench, lose, nought boasted strife. Yet will not I grief, ashes, thraldom change For others’ ease, their fruit, or free estate; So brave a shot, dear fire, and beauty strange, Bid me pierce, burn, and bind, long time and late, And in my wounds, my flames, and bonds, I find A salve, fresh air, and bright contented mind. * * * * * VIRTUE, beauty, and speech, did strike, wound, charm, My heart, eyes, ears, with wonder, love, delight, First, second, last, did bind, enforce, and arm, His works, shows, suits, with wit, grace, and vows’ might, Thus honour, liking, trust, much, far, and deep, Held, pierced, possessed, my judgment, sense, and will, Till wrongs, contempt, deceit, did grow, steal, creep, Bands, favour, faith, to break, defile, and kill, Then grief, unkindness, proof, took, kindled, taught, Well-grounded, noble, due, spite, rage, disdain: But ah, alas! in vain my mind, sight, thought, Doth him, his face, his words, leave, shun, refrain. For nothing, time, nor place, can loose, quench, ease Mine own embracéd, sought, knot, fire, disease. WOOING-STUFF.