Sonet 3.

The loue wherewith youre vertues chayne my sprite
Enuyes the hate I beare vnto youre foe
Since hatefull pen had meanes his hate to showe
And loue like meanes had not of loue to wryte.

I meane write that yowre vertues doe endite
From which sweet spring all my conceyts doe flow
And of my pen my sword doth enviouse growe
That pen before my sword youre foes should smite

And to my inke my bloud doth envie beare
That in youre cause more inke then bloud I shed
Which envie though it be a vice yet heare
Tis vertue, sith youre vertues haue it bred
Thus powerfull youre sacred vertues be
Which vice it selfe a vertue makes in me