Love that your self hath planted in my heart.
For being charm’d by the bewitching art
Of those inveigling graces that attend you:
Love’s holy fire kindled hath in part
These never-dying flames, my breast doth send you.
Now if my lines offend, let love be blam’d,
And if my love displease, accuse my eyes,
And if mine eyes sin, their sins cause only lyes
On your bright eyes, that hath my heart inflam’d.
Since eyes[,] love, lines erre, then by your direction,