Sonnet I
Betake where will I inscript?
Asseveration, witter if do I whacking or wee
With bide be vain vein be by, toiled
In it same be it dupe and echt
Abide angst tie in I the wrong hath copious
To it fair be, swayed not abroad myriad, hast anew
Betake where will I inscript?
Thus pique youth not thine glib righteous, yet sapient doted
Know all not I awe not no eye as sweetest
Thy joint, naked, ye piece rush as peace
Renowned ye make or break thine as time mine runneth
And cometh, with Sunday's fire desire a month
With Misfortune, cometh opportunity
Betake where will I inscript?