8

Love leave to urge, thou knowest thou hast the hand
'Tis Cowardize to strive where none resist,
Pray thee leave off, I yeeld unto thy band,
Doe not thus, still in thine owne power persist.
Behold, I yeeld; let forces be dismist,
I am thy Subject conquer'd bound to stand
Never thy foe, but did thy claime assist,
Seeking thy due of those who did withstand.
But now it seemes thou would'st I should thee love,
I doe confesse, t'was thy will made mee choose,
And thy faire shewes made me a Lover prove,
When I my freedome did for paine refuse.
Yet this Sir god, your Boy-ship I despise,
Your charmes I obey, but love not want of eyes.
Saturday, September 18, 2010
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