MY fixèd faith against oblivion fights;
And I cannot forget her, pretty Elf!
Although she cruel be unto my plights;
Yet let me rather clean forget myself,
Than her sweet name out of my mind should go:
Which is th' elixir of my pining soul;
From whence the essence of my life doth flow.
Whose beauty rare, my senses all control;
Themselves most happy evermore accounting
That such a Nymph is Queen of their affection:
With ravished rage, they to the skies are mounting;
Esteeming not their thraldom nor subjection.
But still do joy amidst their misery;
With patience bearing LOVE's captivity.