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Poem by Philip Sidney Sonnet 56. Fie, School Of Patience Fie, school of Patience, fie! your lesson is Far, far too long to learn it without book: What, a whole week without one piece of look, And think I should not your large precepts miss? When I might read those letters fair of bliss, Which in her face teach virtue, I could brook Somewhat thy leaden counsels, which I took As of a friend that meant not much amiss: But now that I, alas, do want her sight, What, dost thou think that I can ever take In thy cold stuff a phlegmatic delight? No, Patience, if thou wilt my good, then make Her come, and hear with patience my desire, And then with patience bid me bear my fire. Philip Sidney Philip Sidney's other poems:
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