Caelica, Sonnet XV

WHen gentle Beauties ouer-wanton kindnesse,
Had giuen loue the liberty of playing,
Change brought his eye-sight by and by to blindnesse,
Still hatching in excesse her owne decaying;
Then cut I selfe-loues wings to lend him fethers,
Gaue him mine eyes to see in Myra's glory,
Honour and Beauty reconcil'd togethers
Of Loue, the birth, the fatall tombe and story.
Ah Wag, no sooner he that sphere had gotten,
But out of Myra's eyes my eyes he woundeth;
And, but his Boyes-play hauing all forgotten,
His heate in her chast coldnesse so confoundeth,
As he that burnes must freeze, who trusts must feare,
Ill quarter'd coats, which yet all Louers beares.