Mary Wroth
Poor Love in chains, and fetters, like a thief
I met led forth, as chaste Diana's gain,
Vowing the untaught Lad should no relief
From her receive, who gloried in fond pain.
She called him thief; with vows he did maintain
He never stole; butt some slight touch of grief
Had given to those who did his power disdain,
In which revenge, his honour, was the chief:
She said he murdered, and therefore must die;
He, that he caused but love: did harms deny,
But, while she thus discoursing with him stood
The Nymphs untied him, and his chains took off
Thinking him safe; butt he, loose, made a scoff
Smiling, and scorning them, flew to the wood.