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<HTML><HEAD><TITLE>Sonnet CLI</TITLE></HEAD>
<BODY><H1>Sonnet CLI</H1>
<BLOCKQUOTE>Love is too young to know what conscience is;<BR>
Yet who knows not conscience is born of love?<BR>
Then, gentle cheater, urge not my amiss,<BR>
Lest guilty of my faults thy sweet self prove:<BR>
For, thou betraying me, I do betray<BR>
My nobler part to my gross body's treason;<BR>
My soul doth tell my body that he may<BR>
Triumph in love; flesh stays no father reason;<BR>
But, rising at thy name, doth point out thee<BR>
As his triumphant prize. Proud of this pride,<BR>
He is contented thy poor drudge to be,<BR>
To stand in thy affairs, fall by thy side.<BR>
No want of conscience hold it that I call<BR>
Her 'love' for whose dear love I rise and fall.<BR>
</BLOCKQUOTE>
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