What, have I thus betray'd my liberty?
Can those black beams such burning marks engrave In my free side? or am I born a slave,
Whose neck becomes such yoke of tyranny?
Or want I sense to feel my misery?
Or sprite, disdain of such disdain to have,
Who for long faith, though daily help I crave,
May get no alms but scorn of beggery?
Virtue awake, beauty but beauty is;
I may, I must, I can, I will, I do
Leave following that, which it is gain to miss.
Let her go! Soft, but here she comes. Go to,
Unkind, love-you/">I love you not. Oh me, that eye
Doth make my heart give to my tongue the lie.
Sonnet 47: What, Have I Thus Betray'd
Sir Philip Sidney
(1)
Poem topics: I miss you, I love you, faith, feel, heart, tongue, long, sense, black, soft, slave, daily, gain, beauty, love, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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