Which profers vnesteemed you despise, As far to meane, to equall your desart, (5) Your minde wherein, all hie perfections flowe, Deignes not the thought, of things that are so lowe,
To striue to alter his desires, were vaine, Whose vowed hart, affects no other place, The which since you despise, I doe disdaine, (10) To count it mine, as erst before it was: For that is mine, which you alone alow, As I am yours, and onely liue for you.
Now if I him forsake, and he not finde, His wretched exile, succord by your eies, (15) He can not yeeld, to serue anothers minde, Nor liue alone, for nature that denies, Then die he must, for other choise is none, But liue in you, or me, or die alone.
Whose haples death, when Fame abroad hath blowne, (20) Blame and reproch, procures vnto vs both, I, as vnkinde, forsaking so mine owne, But you much more, from whom the rigour groweth, And so much more, will your dishonor be, By how much more, it loued you than me.
S Eeing those eies, that with the Sun contendeth, +For maiestie of light, and excellence, A quickning pleasure secretly descendeth Into my hart, by subtill influence.
(5) Not seeing them, horror my blisse depriueth, And I, as one, by publike lawe conuicted,