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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=519391" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Sonnet 44: My Words, I Know Do Well</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=519391" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">My words I know do well set forth my mind, <br>My mind bemoans his sense of inward smart; <br>Such smart may pity claim of any heart, <br>Her heart, sweet heart, is of no tiger's kind: </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=519391" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">And yet she hears, yet I no pity find; <br>But more I cry, less grace she doth impart, <br>Alas, what cause is there so overthwart, <br>That nobleness itself makes thus unkind? </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=519391" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">I much do guess, yet find no truth save this: <br>That when the breath of my complaints doth touch<br>Those dainty doors unto the court of bliss, </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=519391" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">The heav'nly nature of that place is such, <br>That once come there, the sobs of mine annoys <br>Are metamorphos'd straight to tunes of joys.</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=Philip+Sidney">Philip Sidney</a></strong></div>

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