Sonette XXXIV
Poem (Canso):
Return’d to Earth, I wild shout for aid,
That the hellish lord may still be reprove
To have destroyed the hope of truest love.
But none will serve, for saw they how she paid
To have believed that my case might have made
That vile serpent’s heart a small inch to move.
He hath no fair response to joy above!
And now memory of my dear is laid
To rest, and so I take my leave of men
That have no will to hunt greatest virtue,
Which doth but roam a little from their ken,
And seeing them, myself in like was shew.
Man cannot man raise from enacting ill,
But in the wild reason bows to the will.