Sonet 33

O if thou knew'st how thou thy selfe dost harme,
And dost preiudge thy blisse, and spoile my rest:
Then thou would'st melt the yce out of thy brest,
And thy relenting heart would kindly warme.
O if thy pride did not our ioyes controule,
What world of louing wonders should'st thou see!
For if I saw thee once transform'd in me,
Then in thy bosome I would poure my soule,
Then all thy thoughts should in my visage shine.
And if that ought mischanc'd thou should'st not mone,
Nor beare the burthen of thy griefes alone;
No, I would haue my share in what were thine.
And whil'st we thus should make our sorrowes one,
This happie harmonie would make them none.