Wittes Pilgrimage, Sonnet 96

GOds me! what will you? soft, what do I dreame?
Do I heare reall words? or think I do?
Or can it be that beauty so extreame
Should be so fowly false, and brag ont to?
Sure, I had rather lay my Sences lye,
Then think you can, be so vnlike to you:
Sith in the sam's no possibility,
How are you seem to you, and me vntrue.
Say what you wll, I will not wrong you so
To think (much lesse to say) that you fair, Sweet,
Will plight me faith; then, me and It for goe:
And vaunt (ô past beleef!) how you did :
But, this I sweare, if yon rest so vnsound,
That such crackt Ware is better lost then found.