Astrophil and Stella

Sonnet 49

I on my horse, and love on me, doth try 
   Our phorsemanship[s, while by strange work I prove 
   A horseman to my horse, a horse to love, 
And now man's wrongs in me, poor beast! descry. 
The reins wherewith my rider doth me tie 
   Are humbled thoughts, which bit of reverence move, 
   Curbed in with fear, but with gilt boss above 
Of hope, which makes it seem fair to the eye: 
   The wand is will; thou, fancy, saddle art, 
Girt fast by memory; and while I spur
My horse, he spurs with sharp desire my heart. 
He sits me fast, however I do stir, 
   And now hath made me to his hand so right, 
   That in the manage myself take delight.  
Sir Philip Sidney

Back to Sonnet 48

Forward to Sonnet 50

Log in or register to write something here or to contact authors.