Astrophil and Stella

Sonnet 67

Hope, art thou true, or doest thou flatter me? 
   Doth Stella now begin with piteous eye 
   The ruins of her conquest to espy? 
Will she take time before all wracked be? 
Her eyes-speech is translated thus by thee, 
   But failst thou not in phrases so heavenly high? 
   Look on again, the fair text better pry; 
What blushing notes dost thou in margin see? 
   What sighs stolen out, or killed before full-born? 
Hast thou found such and such-like arguments, 
Or art thou else to comfort me forsworn? 
Well, how so thou interpret the contents, 
   I am resolved thy error to maintain, 
   Rather than by more truth to get more pain.  

Sir Philip Sidney

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