Astrophil and Stella

Sonnet 78

O how the pleasant airs of true love be 
   Infected by those vapours which arise 
   From out that noisome gulf, which gaping lies 
Between the jaws of hellish jealousy! 
A monster, others' harm, self-misery, 
   beauty's plague, virtue's scourge, succour of lies; 
   Who his own joy to his own hurt applies, 
And only cherish doth with injury: 
   Who since he hath, by nature's special grace, 
   So piercing paws as spoil when they embrace; 
So nimble feet as stir still, though on thorns; 
   So many eyes, aye seeking their own woe; 
   So ample ears as never good news know: 
Is it not ill that such a devil wants horns?  
Sir Philip Sidney

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