Not at first sight

Not at first sight, nor with a dribbing shot,

Love gave the wound, which while I breath will bleede

But knowne, worth did in mine of time proceede,

Till by degrees it had full conquest got.

I sawe and lik’d, I lik’d but loved not,

I lov’d, but did not straight what Love decreede:

At length to Loves decrees, I forst agreede:

Yet with repining at so partiall lot.

Now even that foot-steppe of lost libertie

Is gone, and now like slave borne Muscovite:

I call it praise to suffer tyrannie,

And now imploy the remnant of my wit

To make my selfe believe that all is well,

While with a feeling skill I paint my hell.