Sonnet 38

SHe whose faire flowers no Autumne makes decay,
Whose Hue Coelestiall, earthly hues doth staine,
Into a pleasant odoriferous Plaine
Did walke alone, to brave the pride of May.
And whilst through flowry Lists she made her way,
That proudly smil'd her sight to entertaine,
Loe, unawares where Love did hid remaine
She spied, and sought to make of him her prey:
For which of golden locks a fairest haire
To bind the Boy she took, but he affraid
At her approach sprang swiftly in the Aire,
And mounting far from reach, lookt back and said,
Why shouldst thou [sweet] me seek in chaines to bind,
Sith in thy eyes I dayly am confind?