Sonnet 3 (Sonnet 3)

TAking my penne, with words to cast my woes,
Duely to count the summe of all my cares,
I finde, my griefe innumerable growes,
The recknings rise to millions of dispaires,
And thus diuiding of my fatall houres,
The payments of my loue I reade, and crosse
Substracting, set my sweets vnto my sowers,
My ioyes arerage leades me to my losse;
And thus mine eyes a debtour to thine eye,
Which by extortion gaineth all their lookes,
My heart hath payd such grieuous vsurie,
That all his wealth lies in thy beauties bookes.
And all is thine which hath beene due to mee,
And I a Bankrupt, quite vndone by thee.