Astrophil and Stella

Sonnet 45

Stella oft sees the very face of woe
   Painted in my beclouded stormy face, 
   But cannot skill to pity my disgrace, 
Not though thereof the cause herself she know: 
Yet, hearing late a fable which did show 
   Of lovers never known, a grievous case, 
   Pity thereof gat in her breast such place, 
That, from that sea derived, tears' spring did flow. 
   Alas, if fancy, drawn by imaged things 
Though false, yet with free scope, more grace doth breed 
Than servants wrack, where new doubts honour brings; 
Then think, my dear, that you in me do read 
   Of lover's ruin some thrice sad tragedy. 
   I am not I: pity the tale of me.  
Sir Philip Sidney

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