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SONNET. XXXII.

[Thy image is plaine porturde in my thought]

Thy image is plaine porturde in my thought,
Thy constant minde is written in my heart,
Thy seemely grace and pleasing speech haue wrought
To vow me thine, till death a sunder part:
Thy fauours forst me subiect vnto thee,
Thy onely care extended to my good,
Ty louely lookes, commaunded all in me
For thy deare sake to spend my dearest blood:
My ioy consists in keeping of thy loue,
My bale doth breede if I inioy it not:
My seruice true, from thee none can remoue,
Vnlesse both life and loue I shall forgot.
Though life and loue in time must haue an end,
Yet euer I haue vowde to be thy frend.