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Sonnet IIII.
[What sugred termes, what all-perswading arte]
What sugred termes, what all-perswading arte,what sweet mellifluous words, what woūding lookes
Loue vsd for his admittance to my hart?
such eloquence was neuer read in bookes;
He promisd pleasure, rest, and endlesse ioy,
fruition of the fairest shee aliue,
His pleasure paine, rest trouble, ioy annoy,
haue I since found, which me of blisse depriue;
The Troian horse thus haue I now let in,
wherein inclosd these armed men were plac'd,
Bright eyes, faire cheekes, sweet lips, & milk-white skin
these foes my life haue ouerthrown & raz'd.
Faire outward shewes, proue inwardly the worst,
Loue looketh faire, but Louers are accurst.
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