Sonnet Xviii: With What Sharp Checks

Sir Philip Sidney

With what sharp checks I in myself am shent,
When into Reason's audit I do go:
And by just counts myself a bankrupt know
Of all the goods, which heav'n to me hath lent:

Unable quite to pay even Nature's rent,
Which unto it by birthright I do owe:
And, which is worse, no good excuse can show,
But that my wealth I have most idly spend.

My youth doth waste, my knowledge brings forth toys,
My wit doth strive those passions to defend,
Which for reward spoil it with vain annoys.

I see my course to lose myself doth bend:
I see and yet no greater sorrow take,
Than that I lose no more for Stella's sake. 

Next 10 Poems

• Sir Philip Sidney : Sonnet Xx: Fly, Fly, My Friends
• Sir Philip Sidney : Sonnet Xxi: Your Words, My Friend
• Sir Philip Sidney : Sonnet Xxii: In Highest Way Of Heav'n
• Sir Philip Sidney : Sonnet Xxiii: The Curious Wits
• Sir Philip Sidney : Sonnet Xxiv: Rich Fools There Be
• Sir Philip Sidney : Sonnet Xxix: Like Some Weak Lords
• Sir Philip Sidney : Sonnet Xxv: The Wisest Scholar
• Sir Philip Sidney : Sonnet Xxvi: Though Dusty Wits
• Sir Philip Sidney : Sonnet Xxvii: Because I Oft
• Sir Philip Sidney : Sonnet Xxviii: You That With Allegory's Curious Frame

Previous 10 Poems

• Sir Philip Sidney : Sonnet Xvii: His Mother Dear Cupid
• Sir Philip Sidney : Sonnet Xvi: In Nature Apt
• Sir Philip Sidney : Sonnet Xv: You That Do Search
• Sir Philip Sidney : Sonnet Xli: Having This Day My Horse
• Sir Philip Sidney : Sonnet Xix: On Cupid's Bow
• Sir Philip Sidney : Sonnet Xiv: Alas, Have I Not
• Sir Philip Sidney : Sonnet Xiii: Phoebus Was Judge
• Sir Philip Sidney : Sonnet Xii: Cupid, Because Thou
• Sir Philip Sidney : Sonnet Xi: In Truth, Oh Love
• Sir Philip Sidney : Sonnet Xcii: Be Your Words Made