Sonnet VI. Good God! how senseless be we paramours

William Percy (1575–1648)

GOOD God! how senseless be we paramours,

So proudly on a Nothing for to vaunt it!

We cannot reap the meanest of all favours,

But, by-and-by, we think our suit is grantit!

Had ye observed two Planets which then mounted,

Two certain signs of indignation;

Ye would have deemed rather both consented

To turn all hopes to desperation.

Then can you waver so inconstantly

To shew first Love, and then Disdainfulness?

First for to bring a dram of courtesy,

Then mix it with an ounce of scornfulness?

No, no, the doubt is answered! Certainly,

She trod by chance; She trod not wittingly!