Sonnet XXIV: From Ausias March

Love! I have dressed myself in robes of white,
Shaped by thy scissors; as I put them on,
I find them loose and easy, but anon
They grow uneasy, cumbersome, and tight.
After consenting with a child's delight
To wear them, such repentance has possessed
My soul, that oft, by pure impatience pressed,
I try to tear them off in thy despite.
But who can free himself from such a suit,
When his thwart nature has become thereto
Conformed? if of my reason any part
Remains unparalyzed, it has not heart
To abet my cause, for in this stern dispute
Of circumstance, it knows it would not do.