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SONNETS OF SIR PHILIP SYDNEY
me fruit of knowledge plies,

    Otries

    t I tate errors to redress,

    But ions rage,

    Scourge of itself, still climbing slippery place

    ivd in gold cage.

    O fools, or over-he race

    Of all my ts op nor start,

    But only Stellas eyes, and Stellas .

    IV

    Because I oft in dark abstracted guise

    Seem most alone in greatest company,

    ite awry,

    to t would make speech of speech arise,

    the rumour flies,

    t poison foul of bubbling Pride doth lie

    So in my s, t only I

    Fahers do despise,

    Yet Pride, I t my soul possess,

    oo oft in tering glass:

    But one  -- Ambition -- I confess,

    t makes me oft my best friends overpass,

    Unseen, un to  place

    Bends all o Stellas grace.

    V

    his day, my horse, my hand, my lance,

    Guided so  I obtained the prize,

    Bot of the English eyes

    And of some sent from t s enemy -- France,

    horsemen my skill in horsemanship advance,

    torengtier judge applies

    o sleigh rise;

    Some lucky s impute it but to chance;

    Otake

    My blood from this,

    ture me a man of arms did make.

    arue cause is,

    StELLA lookd on, and from her heavenly face

    Sent forthe beams which made so fair my race.

    VI

    In martial sports I ried,

    And yet to break more staves did me address,

    s (I must confess)

    Youth pride --

    hen Cupid, having
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