Sonet 33

O if thou knew'st how thou thy selfe dost harme, And dost preiudge thy blisse, and spoile my rest: Then thou would'st melt the yce out of thy brest, And thy relenting heart would kindly warme. O if thy pride did not our ioyes controule, What world of louing wonders should'st thou see! For if I saw thee once transform'd in me, Then in thy bosome I would poure my soule, Then all thy thoughts should in my visage shine. And if that ought mischanc'd thou should'st not mone, Nor beare the burthen of thy griefes alone; No, I would haue my share in what were thine. And whil'st we thus should make our sorrowes one, This happie harmonie would make them none.