CXVII
Accuse me thus: that I have scanted1 all, Wherein I should your great deserts repay, Forgot upon your dearest love to call, Whereto all bonds do tie me day by day; That I have frequent been with unknown minds, And given to time your own dear-purchas'd right; That I have hoisted2 sail to all the winds Which should transport me farthest from your sight. Book both my wilfulness3 and errors down, And on just proof surmise4, accumulate; Bring me within the level of your frown, But shoot not at me in your waken'd hate; Since my appeal says I did strive to prove The constancy and virtue5 of your love.