Sonnet 62: Late, Tir'd With Woe Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: ABAB ABAB CCD CDD

Late tir'd with woe ev'n ready for to pineA
With rage of love I call'd my love unkindB
She is whose eyes Love though unfelt doth shineA
Sweet said that I true love in her should findB
-
I joy'd but straight thus water'd was my wineA
That love she did but lov'd a Love not blindB
Which would not let me whem she lov'd declineA
From nobler course fit for my birth and mindB
-
And therefore by her love's authorityC
Will'd me these tempests of vain love to fleeC
And anchor fast myself on Virtue's shoreD
-
Alas if this the only metal beC
Of Love new coin'd to help my beggaryD
Dear love me not that you may love me moreD

Sir Philip Sidney



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