Astrophil and Stella: 12th Sonnet

by Philip Sidney

Cupid because thou shin’st in Stellas eyes,
That from her lookes thy day-nets now scapes free:
That those lips swelde so full of thee they be.
That her sweet breath makes all thy flames t’arise,
That in her brest thy pap well sugred lyes,
That her grace gracious makes thy wrongs, that shee,
What word so ere shee speakes, perswades for thee:
That her cleere voice, lifts thy fame to the skyes.
Thou countest Stella thine, like those whose powres
Having got up a breach; (by fighting well)
Cry victorie, this faire day all is ours:
Oh no, her heart is such a Cytadell.
So fortified with wit, stor’d with disdaine:
That to winne it, is all the skill and paine.

Monadnock Valley Press > Sidney