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.