Sonnet 14

Heere, hold this gloue (this milk-white cheueril gloue)
Not quaintly ouer-wrought with curious knots,
Nor deckt with golden spangs, nor siluer spots;
Yet wholsome for thy hand as thou shalt proue.
Ah no; (sweet boy) place this gloue neere thy heart,
Weare it, and lodge it still within thy brest,
So shalt thou make me (most vnhappy) blest.
So shalt thou rid my paine, and ease my smart:
How can that be (perhaps) thou wilt reply,
A gloue is for the hand not for the heart,
Nor can it well be prou'd by common art,
Nor reasons rule. To this, thus answere I:
If thou from gloue do'st take away the g,
Then gloue is loue : and so I send it thee.