Oft with true sighes, oft with uncalled teares,
Now with slow words, now with dumbe eloquence,
I Stellas eyes assailde, invade her eares,
But this at last is her sweete breath’d defence,
That who indeede a sound affection beares,
So captives to his Saint both soule and sence,
That wholie Hers, all selfnes he forbeares.
Thence his desire he learnes, his lives course thence,
Now since this chast love, hates this love in mee;
With chastned minde I needes must shew, that shee
Shall quickly me from what she hates remove.
O Doctor Cupid, thou for me reply:
Driven els to graunt by Angell Sophistry,
That I love not, without I leave to love.