Caelica, Sonnet LXX

LOue, I did send you forth enamel'd faire
With hope, and gaue you seisin and liuery
Of Beauties skye, which you did claime as heyre,
By obiects and desires affinitie.

And doe you now returne leane with Despaire?
Wounded with Riualls warre, scorched with Iealousie?
Hence Changeling; Loue doth no such colours weare:
Find suerties, or at Honours sessions dye.

Sir, know me for your owne, I onely beare,
Faiths ensigne, which is Shame, and Miserie,
My Paradise, and Adams diuerse were:
His fall was Knowledge, mine Simplicitie.

What shall I doe, Sir? doe me Prentice bind,
To Knowledge, Honour, Fame or Honestie;
Let me no longer follow Womenkinde,
Where change doth vse all shapes of tyranny;
And I no more will stirre this earthly dust,
Wherein I lose my name, to talke on lust.