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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=519410" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Sonnet 62: Late, Tir'd With Woe</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=519410" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Late tir'd with woe, ev'n ready for to pine, <br>With rage of love, I call'd my love unkind; <br>She is whose eyes Love, though unfelt, doth shine, <br>Sweet said that I true love in her should find. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=519410" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">I joy'd, but straight thus water'd was my wine, <br>That love she did, but lov'd a Love not blind, <br>Which would not let me, whem she lov'd, decline <br>From nobler course, fit for my birth and mind: </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=519410" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">And therefore by her love's authority, <br>Will'd me these tempests of vain love to flee, <br>And anchor fast myself on Virtue's shore. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=519410" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Alas, if this the only metal be <br>Of Love, new-coin'd to help my beggary, <br>Dear, love me not, that you may love me more.</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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