Astrophel and Stella: 12

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Cupid, because thou shin'st in Stellas eyes,That from her lockes, thy daunces none scapes free,That those lips sweld, so full of thee they bee,That her sweete breath makes oft thy flames to ryes,That in her breast thy pap well sugred lies,That her Grace gracious makes thy wrongs, that sheWhat words so ere she speake perswades for thee,That her cleare voyce lifts thy fame to the skies.Thou countest Stella thine, like those whose powersHauing got vp a breach by fighting well,Crie, victorie, this faire day all is ours.O no, her heart is such a Cittadell,So fortified with wit, stor'd with disdaine,That to win it, is all the skill and paine.

© Sir Philip Sidney