Sonnet XII

Be giv'n to him who triumphs in his right;
Nor fading be, but like those blossomes faire,
Which fall for good, and lose their colours bright,
Yet dye not, but with fruit their losse repaire:
So may Love make you pale with loving care,
When sweet enjoying shall restore that light,
More cleere in beauty, then we can compare,
If not to Venus in her chosen night.
And who so give themselves in this deare kinde,
These happinesses shall attend them still,
To be supplide with joyes enrich'd in minde,
With treasures of content, and pleasures fill.
Thus love to be devine, doth here appeare,
Free from all foggs, but shining faire, and cleare.