Wittes Pilgrimage, Sonnet 65

WHile Words I weigh, in Scales of my Conceite,
To know their weight that merit most respect,
And, while I vse some Arte (without Deceite)
To place them where they may haue most effect,
I finde the weightiest Words are farre too light
To weigh the Will resolu'd not to be waid;
And, though their plac make infinite their might,
Yet stirre they not a Mind peruersly staid:
Then, whie seeke I to mooue you by my Words?
I know not I, because I know so much:
Yet this lost labour my Loue you affords,
Which, It draw not, shall your hardnesse touche:
For, were you Steele, the Magnes of my Loue
Would draw you too't; but harder you I proue.