Xliv

Cruel fair love, I justly do complain Of too much rigor and thy heart unkind, That for mine eyes thou hast my body slain, And would not grant that I should favour find. I looked, fair love, and you my love looked fair, I sighed for love and you for sport did smile. Your smiles were such as did perfume the air, And this perfumed did my heart beguile. Thus I confess the fault was in mine eyes, Begun with sighs and ended with a flame. I for your love did all the world despise; And in these poems honored have your name. Then let your love so with my fault dispense, That all my parts feel not mine eyes' offense.