SONNET. I.

Sporting at fancie, setting light by loue,
     There came a theefe and stole away my heart,
     (And therefore robd me of my chiefest part)
Yet cannot Reason him a felon proue.
For why his beauty (my hearts thiefe) affirmeth,
     Piercing no skin (the bodies fensiue wall)
     And hauing leaue, and free consent withall,
Himselfe not guilty, whom loue guilty tearmeth,
Conscienee the ludge, twelue Reasons are the Iurie,
     They sinde mine eies his beutie t'haue let in,
     And on this verdict giuen, agreed they bin,
VVherefore, because his beauty did allure yee,
     Your Doome is this: in teares still to be drowned,
     VVhen his faire forchead with disdain is frowned.