Oft and in vaine my rebel thoughts haue ventred,
To stop the passage of my vanquisht hart:
And shut those waies my friendly foe first entred,
Hoping thereby to free my better part.
And whilst I garde these windowes of this forte,
Where my harts theefe to vexe me made her choice:
And thether all my forces doe transporte,
An other passage opens at her voice.
Her voyce betraies me to her hand and eye:
My freedomes tyrants conquering all by arte:
But ah, what glorie can she get thereby,
With three such powers to plague one silly harte.
Yet my soules soueraigne, since I must resigne;
Reigne in my thoughts, my loue and life are thine.