Astrophil and Stella

Sonnet 46

I cursed thee oft, I pity now thy case, 
   Blind-hitting boy, since she that thee and me 
   Rules with a beck, so tyrannizeth thee, 
That thou must want or food or dwelling-place, 
For she protests to banish thee her face. 
   Her face! O love, a rogue thou then shouldst be, 
   If love learn not alone to love and see, 
Without desire to feed of further grace. 
   Alas, poor wag, that now a scholar art 
To such a schoolmistress, whose lessons new 
Thou needs must miss, and so thou needs must smart. 
Yet, dear, let me his pardon get of you, 
   So long, though he from book much to desire, 
   Till without fuel you can make hot fire.  
Sir Philip Sidney

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