Mary Wroth

Sonnet 7 - An end fond jealousy

An end fond jealousy; alas I know

Thy hiddenest, and thy most secret art.

Thou canst no new invention frame but part

I have already seen, and felt with woe;

 

All thy dissemblings which by feigned show

Won my belief, while truth did rule my heart

I, with glad mind embraced, and deemed my smart

The spring of joy, whose streams with bliss should flow;

 

I thought excuses had been reasons true,

And that no falsehood could of thee ensue;

So soon belief in honest minds is wrought;

 

But now I find thy flattery, and skill,

Which idly made me to observe thy will;

Thus is my learning by my bondage bought.