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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=400619" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Licia Sonnets 31</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=400619" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Whenas her lute is tunéd to her voice, <br>The air grows proud for honour of that sound, <br>And rocks do leap to show how they rejoice <br>That in the earth such music should be found. <br>Whenas her hair more worth, more pale than gold, <br>Like silver thread lies waiting in the air, <br>Diana-like she looks, but yet more bold; <br>Cruel in chase, more chaste and yet more fair. <br>Whenas she smiles, the clouds for envy breaks; <br>She Jove in pride encounters with a check; <br>The sun doth shine for joy whenas she speaks; <br>Thus heaven and earth do homage at her beck. <br>Yet all these graces, blots, not graces are, <br>If you, my love, of love do take no care.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Giles+Fletcher+The+Elder">Giles Fletcher The Elder</a></strong></div>

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