Sonnet IV

If love thou embrace me as I desire,
What world shall yield upon its four corners
And harbinger of the downs which fouls aspire
Me feared of- if in me of thee love bears?
In name of Love none can pierce my mithril;
Filthy, admit the air which doth inhale;
But drench to clear upon reaching my will,
For thee let not me in ways loves shall fail.
In happiness, not sadness, thee enfolds;