Sonet 72

O my Desire, if thou tookst time to marke,
When I against my will thy sight forsooke:
How that mine eyes with many an earnest looke,
Did in thy beauties depth themselues embarke:
And when our lippes did seale the last farewell,
How loth were mine from those delights to part,
For what was purpos'd by the panting heart,
My toung cleau'd to the throat, and could not tell.
Then when to sorrow I the raines enlarg'd,
Whil'st being spoil'd of comfort and of might,
As forc'd for to forgo thy beauties light,
Of burning sighs a volley I discharg'd:
No doubt then when thou spid'st what I did proue,
Thou saidst within thy self, This man doth loue.