Sonnet 36

DEare Eye which daign'st on this sad Monument,
The sable Scroule of my mishaps to view,
Though it with mourning Muses teares be spent,
And darkely drawn, which is not fain'd, but true;
If thou not dazell'd with a Heavenly Hue,
And comely Feature, didst not yet lament,
But happy lives unto thy selfe content,
O let not Love thee to his Laws subdue.
Look on the wofull ship-wrack of my Youth,
And let my ruines thee for Beacon serve,
To shun this Rock Capharean of untruth,
And serve no God which doth his Church-men sterve:
His Kingdom's but of plaints, his guerdon teares,
What he gives more is Jealousies and Feares.