The Lover blameth his instant Desire

DESIRE, alas, my master and my foe,

So sore alter’d thyself, how mayst thou see?

Sometime thou seekest, and drives me to and fro;

Sometime thou lead’st, that leadeth thee and me.

What reason is to rule thy subject so,

By forced law, and mutability?

For where by thee I doubted to have blame,

Even now by hate again I doubt the same.