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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=37862" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Sonnet 1</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=37862" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Sporting at fancie, setting light by love,<br> There came a theefe, and stole away my heart,<br> (And therefore rob'd me of my chiefest part)<br>Yet cannot Reason him a felon prove.<br>For why his beauty (my hearts thiefe) affirmeth,<br> Piercing no skin (the bodies fensive wall)<br> And having leave, and free consent withall,<br>Himselfe not guilty, from love guilty tearmeth,<br>Conscience the Judge, twelve Reasons are the Jurie,<br> They finde mine eies the beutie t' have let in,<br> And on this verdict given, agreed they bin,<br>Wherefore, because his beauty did allure yee,<br> Your Doome is this; in teares still to be drowned,<br> When his faire forehead with disdain is frowned.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Richard+Barnfield">Richard Barnfield</a></strong></div>

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