Sonette XVI
Poem (Canso): 
I stumble forth through foreign wilderness,
	With bloody foot and hand, without my way
	And wanting to prosper by break of day.
	Yet growing speed makes aiding light seem less:
	I focus not on my dear Euridess.
	Eternally I seem to wander ay,
	Until full from the path I have away
	And hope for naught, but that she me address
	In thought, or voice, or vision from afar.
	But where in Hell can such a hope be found?
	Begin I to despair, losing this war
	Within, that opens wide a mortal wound.
	As life doth from me ebb, approach I see
	Squire and horse, bearing arms of piety.