Sonnet All My Thoughts

All my thoughts always speak to me of love,

Yet have between themselves such

That while one bids me bow with mind and sense,

A second saith, "Go to: look thou above";

The third one, hoping, yields me joy enough;

And with the last come tears,

I scarce know whence:

All of them craving pity in sore suspense,

Trembling with fears that the heart knoweth of.

And thus, being all unsure which path to take,

Wishing to speak I know not what to say,

And lose myself in amorous wanderings:

Until (my peace with all of them to make),

Unto mine enemy I needs must pray,

My lady Pity, for the help she brings.