Astrophel and Stella: 14

Alas haue I not paine ynough my friend,Vpon whose breast a fiercer Grype doth tire,Then did on him who first stale downe the fire,While Loue on me doth all his quiuer spend,But with your Rubarb words ye must contend,To grieue me worse, in saying that DesireDoth plunge my wel-form'd soule euen in the mireOf sinfull thoughts, which do in ruine end?If that be sinne which doth the maners frame,Well staid with truth in word and faith of deed,Readie of wit and fearing nought but shame:If that be sinne which in fixt hearts doth breedA loathing of all loose vnchastitie,Then Loue is sinne, and let me sinfull be.