To the Sences. Sonnet 29 (Sonnet 29)

WHen conqu'ring loue did first my hart assaile,
Vnto mine aide I sommond euerie sence,
Doubting if that prowde tirant should preuaile,
My hart should suffer for mine eies offence;
But he with beautie first corrupted sight,
My hearing bribde with her tongues harmonie,
My taste by her sweete lippes drawne with delight,
My smelling wonne with her breaths spicerie;
But when my touching came to plaie his part,
(The King of sences, greater than the rest)
He yeeldes loue vp the keis vnto my hart,
And tells the other how they should be blest:
And thus by those of whome I hopde for aide,
To cruell loue my soule was first betraide.