Sonnet I: He Demands Pardon for Looking, Loving, and Writing

Let not, sweet saint! let not these lines offend you;
Nor yet the message that these lines impart:
The message my unfeigned love doth send you,
Love, which yourself hath planted in my heart.
For being charmed by the bewitching art
Of those inveigling graces which attend you,
Love's holy fire makes me breathe out in part
The never-dying flames my breast doth lend you.
Then if my lines offend, let Love be blamed;
And if my love displease, accuse mine eyes:
If mine eyes sin, their sin's cause only lies
On your bright eyes, which have my heart inflamed.
Since eyes, love, lines, err then by your direction,
Excuse mine eyes, my lines, and my affection.