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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=519399" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Sonnet 52: A Strife Is Grown</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=519399" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">A strife is grown between Virtue and Love, <br>While each pretends that Stella must be his: <br>Her eyes, her lips, her all, saith Love, do this <br>Since they do wear his badge, most firmly prove. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=519399" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">But Virtue thus that title doth disprove: <br>That Stella (oh dear name) that Stella is <br>That virtuous soul, sure heir of heav'nly bliss, <br>Not this fair outside, which our hearts doth move; </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=519399" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">And therefore, though her beauty and her grace <br>Be Love's indeed, in Stella's self he may <br>By no pretense claim any manner place. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=519399" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Well, Love, since this demur our suit will stay, <br>Let Virtue have that Stella's self; yet thus <br>That Virtue but that body grant to us.</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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