Sonnet CXLIV

O, thou art moon shadow’d love hidden deep;
That mine heart slain doth traverse such carnage;
Seeking love elsewhere bound by twilight’s sleep,
Thine cunning elixir mine wounds forage.
Let mine plea reason love warrants defense,
Knowing well thine beauty tis but mine foe.
Why need’st thou enemy that bears thee hence?
Tis mine own debt unkind injury bestow.
To glance upon this flailing disarray,
Such sway o’erpowers that which rids my pain,
Thy tongue’s swift sword yielded upon the frey,
Thine wanton heart hath bold illusion slain;
Therefore, cloud doth shade that which doth pertain,
And all’s well despite eminent domain.