Sonette XV
Poem (Canso): 
Wrapped round that iron gate is Typhon fals,
	Whose coils do shackle living mortal wight
	So that he draggèd is from God’s fair light
	And scripts himself instead to Satan’s walls.
	He slumbers now, it seems, or else he stalls
	To challenge entrance to this realm of plight.
	Or mayhap needeth Hades no fierce knight
	To restrict souls from entering his halls.
	Guided by my light into this darknesse,
	Hope I that sleeping serpent will not wake
	When flee I hence from his lord’s cruel largesse
	With her in hand, that never he could take.
	My sweet love grants Mercury’s feet to me
	Should Typhos chase, for chaste I ready be.