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Sonnet CXLIII
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| Lo! as a careful housewife runs to catch | 1
| One of her feather'd creatures broke away, | 2
| Sets down her babe and makes an swift dispatch | 3
| In pursuit of the thing she would have stay, | 4
| Whilst her neglected child holds her in chase, | 5
| Cries to catch her whose busy care is bent | 6
| To follow that which flies before her face, | 7
| Not prizing her poor infant's discontent; | 8
| So runn'st thou after that which flies from thee, | 9
| Whilst I thy babe chase thee afar behind; | 10
| But if thou catch thy hope, turn back to me, | 11
| And play the mother's part, kiss me, be kind: | 12
| So will I pray that thou mayst have thy 'Will,' | 13
| If thou turn back, and my loud crying still. | 14
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