The Poetry Corner

Astrophel and Stella - Sonnet XXXV

By Philip Sidney (Sir)

What may words say, or what may words not say, Where Truth itself must speake like Flatterie? Within what bounds can one his liking stay, Where Nature doth with infinite agree? What Nestors counsell can my flames alay, Since Reasons self doth blow the coale in me? And, ah, what hope that Hope should once see day, Where Cupid is sworn page to Chastity? Honour is honour'd that thou dost possesse Him as thy slaue, and now long-needy Fame Doth euen grow rich, meaning my Stellaes name. Wit learnes in thee perfection to expresse: Not thou by praise, but praise in thee is raisde: It is a praise to praise, when thou art praisde.