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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=519427" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Sonnet 8: Love, Born In Greece</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=519427" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Love, born in Greece, of late fled from his native place, <br>Forc'd by a tedious proof, that Turkish harden'd heart <br>Is no fit mark to pierce with his fine pointed dart, <br>And pleas'd with our soft peace, stayed here his flying race. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=519427" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">But finding these north climes do coldly him embrace, <br>Not used to frozen clips, he strave to find some part <br>Where with most ease and warmth he might employ his art: <br>At length he perch'd himself in Stella's joyful face, </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=519427" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Whose fair skin, beamy eyes, like morning sun on snow, <br>Deceiv'd the quaking boy, who thought from so pure light <br>Effects of lively heat must needs in nature grow. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=519427" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">But she most fair, most cold, made him thence take his flight <br>To my close heart, where while some firebrands he did lay, <br>He burnt un'wares his wings, and cannot fly away.</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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