In this strange Labyrinth how shall I turne, <br />Wayes are on all sides while the way I misse: <br />If to the right hand, there, in love I burne, <br />Let mee goe forward, therein danger is. <br />If to the left, suspition hinders blisse; <br />Let mee turne back, shame cryes I ought returne: <br />Nor faint, though crosses my fortunes kiss, <br />Stand still is harder, allthough sure to mourne. <br />Thus let mee take the right, or left hand way, <br />Goe forward, or stand still, or back retire: <br />I must these doubts indure without allay <br />Or helpe, but trauell finde for my best hire. <br />Yet that which most my troubled sense doth move, <br />Is to leave all, and take the threed of Love.<br /><br />Mary Wroth<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-i-22/
