Seuer'd from sweete Content, my liues sole light;
Banisht by ouer-weening wit from my desire:
This poore acceptance onely I require,
That though my fault haue forc'd me from thy sight;
Yet that thou wouldst (my sorrowes to requite)
Review these Sonnets, pictures of thy praise;
Wherein each woe thy wondrous worth doth raise,
Though first thy worth bereft me of delight.
See them forsaken: for I them forsooke,
Forsaken first of thee, next of my sence;
And when thou deignst on their blacke teares to looke,
Shed not one teare my teares to recompence:
But ioy in this (though Fates gainst mee repine)
My verse still liues, to witnes thee diuine.