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Poem by Philip Sidney
Sonnet 73. Love Still A Boy
Love still a boy, and oft a wanton is, School'd only by his mother's tender eye: What wonder then if he his lesson miss, When for so soft a rod dear play he try? And yet my Star, because a sugar'd kiss In sport I suck'd, while she asleep did lie, Doth low'r, nay chide; nay, threat for only this: Sweet, it was saucy Love, not humble I. But no 'scuse serves, she makes her wrath appear In Beauty's throne; see now who dares come near Those scarlet judges, threat'ning bloody pain? Oh heav'nly fool, thy most kiss-worthy face Anger invests with such a lovely grace, That Anger's self I needs must kiss again.
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