Astrophil and Stella
Love, still a boy, and oft a wanton is,
Schooled only by his mother's tender eye;
What wonder then if he his lesson miss,
When for so soft a rod dear play he try?
And yet my star, because a sugared kiss
In sport I sucked while she asleepe did lie,
Doth lour, nay chide, nay threat for only this.
Sweet, it was saucy love, not humble I.
But no 'scuse serves; she makes her wrath appear
In beauty's throne: see now, who dares come near
Those scarlet judges, threatening bloody pain.
O heavenly fool, thy most kiss-worthy face
Anger invests with such a lovely grace,
That anger's self I needs must kiss again.
Sir Philip Sidney
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Forward to Sonnet 74