Sonnet – O Pardon Cupid

O pardon, Cupid, I confess my fault.

Then mercy grant me in so just a kind,

For treason never lodged in my mind

Against thy might so much as in a thought,

And now my folly I have dearly bought,

Nor could my soul least rest or quiet find

Since rashness did my thoughts to error bind

Which now thy fury, and my harm hath wrought;

I curse that thought, and hand which that first framed

For which by thee I am most justly blamed,

But now that hand shall guided be aright,

And give a crown unto thy endless praise

Which shall thy glory, and thy greatness raise

More than these poor things could thy honour spite.