XI. Henry Lok

From the “First Centurie of Sonets”

WHILST in the garden of this earthly soile

Myself to solace and to bath I bend,

And fain would quench sin’s heat, which seems to boile

Amidst my secret thoughts, which shadow lend:

My sence and reasons which should me defend,

As iudges chosen to the common weale,

Allur’d by lust, my ruine do pretend

By force of sin, which shamelesse they reueale:

They secretly on my affections steale,

When modestie my maides I sent away,

To whom for helpe I thought I might appeale,

But grace yet strengthens me to say them nay:

Yet they accuse me, Lord, and die I shall,

If Christ my Daniell be not iudge of all.