Poem by Robert Sidney

Sonnet 4. These purest flames, kindled by beauties rare

These purest flames, kindled by beauties rare,
Strengthen by love, assured by destiny,
In whom I live, which in me cannot die,
Which are what I am, and I what they are,

True-vestal-like, which with most holy care
Preserve the sacred fires, religiously
I do maintain, and that no end they try
Of my best parts their subject I prepare:

And with a mind free from all false desires,
Untouched by other loves, of vows untrue,
I worship her that shineth in these fires:

Thinking of shame, nay sin, if that in me
Those fairest beams, of heaven the image true,
With powers of meaner worth should matchèd be.

1. Sonnet 21. Alas why say you I am ritch?
2. Sonnet 15. You that haue power to kil, haue will to saue
3. Sonnet 6. When rest locks up the treasures of delight
4. Sonnet 12. Who gives himself, may ill his words deny
5. Sonnet 10. She whom I serve to write did not despise

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