|
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.] |