Whilst youth and error led my wand'ring mind And set my thoughts in heedless ways to range, All unawares a goddes chaste I find, Diana-like, to work my sudden change. For her no sooner had my view bewray'd, But with disdain to see me in that place; With fairest hand, the sweet unkindest maid Casts water-cold disdain upon my face. Which turn'd my sport into a hart's despair, Which still is chas'd, whilst I have any breath, By mine own thoughts; set on me by my fair, My thoughts like hounds, pursue me to my death. Those that I foster'd of mine own accord, Are made by her to murder thus their lord.