THAT crimson gown, with drops of blood ywrought,
Which LAURA wears, a token is most true,
How that of blood desirous is her thought:
And that 'tis so, I best can tell to you.
My wrongèd heart too well doth find the same;
Who, thousand times, not once, hath wrongèd been
By her: and, now, to aggravate my pain,
(More cruel in desire for to be seen),
By outward habit [_dress_] covets She to show
What, inward, in her mind She hides below.