Astrophil and Stella

Sonnet 15

You that do search for every purling spring 
   Which from the ribs of old Parnassus flows, 
   And every flower, not sweet perhaps, which grows 
Near thereabouts, into your poesy wring; 
You that do dictionary's method bring 
   Into your rhymes, running in rattling rows; 
   You that poor Petrarch's long deceased woes 
With new-born sighs and denizened wit do sing; 
   You take wrong ways; those far-fet helps be such 
   As do bewray a want of inward touch,
And sure, at length stol'n goods do come to light: 
   But if, both for your love and skill, your name 
   You seek to nurse at fullest breasts of fame, 
Stella behold, and then begin to indite.  

Sir Philip Sidney

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