(based on Shakespeare's Sonnet LXXXVII )
Farewell! thou are too dear for my possessing,
And like enough thou know'st thy estimate:
The testing of my worth gave thee releasing;
Your bonds are freed, to paths determinate.
For how could I hold thee to cause thy failing?
To keep that treasure, where is my deserving?
The use of this fair gift will bring but wailing;
And so my warning heart away is swerving.
Thyself thou gav'st, thy own worth then not knowing,
To this, to whom thou gav'st it, else mistaking;
So thy great gift, despite its power growing,
Comes home again, midst better judgement making.
Thus release it, which in dreams doth flatter,
T'would tempt a king, but, waking, an evil matter.