Sonnet X:

A shame arose betwixt my Love and me. I am not worthy to be called her own. A thousand jeers of self-contempt have blown My baseness in my face. I weep to see My love lie lifeless, and my manhood flee To vain excuses. From my shattered throne, With crownless brows I totter, like a drone, Too mean to keep his high regality; And at thy feet, as at an altar, fall, Praying for mercy, and such grace as shines Within thy tender eyes, where ruth confines Thy just displeasure. Pity me for all. My very shame but puts me more in thrall. Thy crest-fallen spaniel licks thy hand, and whines.