By Lady Mary Wroth.

Love leave to urge, thou knowest thou hast the hand
'Tis cowardice to strive where none resist,
Pray thee leave off, I yield unto thy band,
Do not thus, still in thine own power persist.
Behold, I yield; let forces be dismissed,
I am thy subject conquer'd bound to stand
Never thy foe, but did thy claim assist,
Seeking thy due of those who did withstand.
But now it seems thou would'st I should thee love,
I do confess, t'was thy will made me choose,
And thy fair shewes made me a lover prove,
When I my freedom did for pain refuse.
Yet this Sir god, your Boy-ship I despise,
Your charms I obey, but love not want of eyes.