SONNET XXV

Cupid, my pretty boy, leave off thy crying, Thou shalt have bells or apples, be not peevish ; Kiss me, sweet lad ; beshrew her for denying ; Such rude denials do make children thievish. Did Reason say that boys must be restrain'd? What was it, tell ; hath cruel Honour chidden ? Or would they have thee from sweet Myra wean'd ? Are her fair breasts made dainty to be hidden ? Tell me—sweet boy—doth Myra's beauty threaten ? Must you say grace when you would be a-playing? Doth she cause thee make faults, to make thee beaten ? Is Beauty's pride in innocent's betraying ?     Give me a bow, let me thy quiver borrow,     And she shall play the child with Love or Sorrow.