Whilst youth and error led my wand'ring mind, And set my thoughts in heedless ways to range, All unawares a goddess chaste I find, Diana-like, to work my sudden change. For her no sooner had my view bewrayed, But with disdain to see me in that place, With fairest hand the sweet unkindest maid Casts water-cold disdain upon my face; Which turned my sport into a hart's despair, Which still is chased, whilst I have any breath, By mine own thoughts, set on me by my fair -- My thoughts like hounds pursue me to my death. Those that I fostered of mine own accord Are made by her to murder thus their lord. |