Sonnet XIII: Inamour'd Iove, commaunding did intreat

Inamour'd Iove, commaunding did intreat,
Cupid to wound my love which he deny'd,
And swore he could not, for she wanted heate.
And would not love, as he full oft had try'd.
Iove in a rage, impatient this to heare,
Reply'd with threats: Ile make you to obey:
Whereat the boye did flie away for feare.
To Lycias eyes, where safe intrench'd, he lay:
Then Iove, he scorn'd, and darde him to his face,
For now more safe than in the heavens he dwell'd,
Nor could Ioves wrath, doe wrong to such a place
Where grace and honour, have their kingdome helde.
Thus in the pride, and beautie of her eyes:
The seelie boye, the greatest god defies,