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Oh from what powre haſt thou this powrefull might,
VVith inſufficiency my heart to ſway,
To make me giue the lie to my true ſight,
And ſwere that brightneſſe doth not grace the day?
Whence haſt thou this becomming of things il,
That in the very refuſe of thy deeds,
There is ſuch ſtrength and warrantiſe of skill,
That in my minde thy worſt all beſt exceeds?
Who taught thee how to make me loue thee more,
The more I heare and ſee iuſt cauſe of hate,
Oh though I loue what others do abhor,
VVith others thou ſhouldſt not abhor my ſtate,
   If thy vnworthineſſe raiſd loue in me,
   More worthy I to be belou’d of thee.

Zie ook het online-facsimile van de oorspronkelijke uitgave (site helaas niet altijd bereikbaar).