Desire Hath Conquered Revenge

Wronged by Desire, I yielded to Disdain,
Who called Revenge to work my spite thereby.
Rash was Revenge, and sware Desire should die;
No price nor prayer his pardon might obtain:
Down to my heart in rage he hastes amain,
And stops each passage, lest Desire should fly;
Within my ears disdainful words did lie;
Proud looks did keep mine eyes with scornful train.
Desire, that erst but flickered in my breast,
And wanton-like now pricked, now gave me rest;
For fear of death sunk deeper in my heart;
There reigns he now, and there will reign alone.
Desire is jealous, and gives part to none;
Nor he from me, nor I from him can start.