Sonnet Xxiii: The Curious Wits

Sir Philip Sidney

The curious wits seeing dull pensiveness
Bewray itself in my long settled eyes,
Whence those same fumes of melancholy rise,
With idle pains, and missing aim, do guess.

Some that know how my spring I did address,
Deem that my Muse some fruit of knowledge plies:
Others, because the Prince my service tries,
Think that I think state errors to redress.

But harder judges judge ambition's rage,
Scourge of itself, still climbing slipp'ry place,
Holds my young brain cativ'd in golden cage.

Oh Fools, or over-wise, alas the race
Of all my thoughts hath neither stop nor start,
But only Stella's eyes and Stella's heart. 

Next 10 Poems

• 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
• Sir Philip Sidney : Sonnet Xxxiii: I Might
• Sir Philip Sidney : Sonnet Xxxix: Come, Sleep!

Previous 10 Poems

• Sir Philip Sidney : Sonnet Xxii: In Highest Way Of Heav'n
• Sir Philip Sidney : Sonnet Xxi: Your Words, My Friend
• 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