Sonnet Xxi: Your Words, My Friend

Sir Philip Sidney

Your words, my friend, (right healthful caustics) blame
My young mind marr'd, whom Love doth windlass so,
That mine own writings like bad servants show
My wits, quick in vain thoughts, in virtue lame;

That Plato I read for nought, but if he tame
Such doltish gyres; that to my birth I owe
Nobler desires, lest else that friendly foe,
Great Expectation, were a train of shame.

For since mad March great promise made of me,
If now the May of my years much decline,
What can be hoped my harvest time will be?

Sure you say well, "Your wisdom's golden mine,
Dig deep with learning's spade." Now tell me this,
Hath this world aught so fair as Stella is? 

Next 10 Poems

• 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
• Sir Philip Sidney : Sonnet Xxx: Whether The Turkish New Moon
• Sir Philip Sidney : Sonnet Xxxi: With How Sad Steps, O Moon

Previous 10 Poems

• Sir Philip Sidney : Sonnet Xx: Fly, Fly, My Friends
• Sir Philip Sidney : Sonnet Xviii: With What Sharp Checks
• 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