home | index | concordance | composite list of variants | help |
Which pray'd forgivenesse for his foes fierce spight?
No, no; but as in my idolatrie
I said to all my profane mistresses,
Beauty, of pitie, foulnesse onely is
A signe of rigour: so I say to thee,
To wicked spirits are horrid shapes assign'd,
This beauteous forme assumes a piteous minde.
XIV.
Batter my heart, three person'd God; for, you
As yet but knock, breathe, shine, & seek to mend;
That I may rise, and stand, o'rthrow me,'and bend
Your force, to break, blow, burn, & make me new.
I, like an usurpt towne, to'another due,
Labour to admit you, but oh, to no end,
Reason your Viceroy in me, me should defend,
But is captiv'd, and proves weake or untrue,
Yet dearly'I love you',and would be lov'd faine,
But am betroth'd unto your enemy,
Divorce me,'untie, or breake that knot againe,
Take me to you, imprison me, for I
Except you'enthrall me, never shall be free,
Nor ever chaste, except you ravish me.

[CW: XV.]