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Sonnet 33 I Might

I might!—unhappy word—O me,

I might,    And then would not, or could not, see my bliss;    Till now wrapt in a most infernal night,    I find how heav'nly day, wretch!

I did miss.    Heart, rend thyself, thou dost thyself but right;    No lovely Paris made thy Helen his,    No force, no fraud robb'd thee of thy delight,    Nor Fortune of thy fortune author is;    But to myself myself did give the blow,  While too much wit, forsooth, so troubled me  That I respects for both our sakes must show:  And yet could not by rising morn foresee  How fair a day was near:

O punish'd eyes,  That I had been more foolish,—or more wise!

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Sir Philip Sidney

Sir Philip Sidney (30 November 1554 – 17 October 1586) was an English poet, courtier, scholar and soldier who is remembered as one of the most p…

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