Love feares nothing else but anger.

6 Yet those lippes so sweetly swelling,

Do invite a stealing kisse;

Now but venture will I this,

Who will read must first learne spelling.

7 Oh sweete kisse, but ah shee is waking.

Lowring beautie chastens mee.

Now will I for feare hence flee,

Foole, more Foole for no more taking.

The third Sonnet.