Sir Philip Sidney. "Envious wits, what hath been mine offence." Sonnet 104 from "Astrophil and Stella."

Sir Philip Sidney

Astrophel and Stella

Sonnet CIV

Envious wits, what hath been mine offence,
    That with such poisonous care my looks you mark,
    That to each word, nay sigh of mine, you hark,
    As grudging me my sorrow's eloquence?
Ah, is it not enough that I am thence,
    Thence, so far thence, that scarcely any spark
    Of comfort dare come to this dungeon dark,
    Where rigor's exile locks up all my sense?
But if I by a happy window pass,
    If I but stars upon mine armor bear—
    Sick, thirsty, glad, though but of empty glass—
Your moral notes straight my hid meaning tear
    From out my ribs, and puffing, proves that I
    Do Stella love;  fools, who doth it deny?

Source:
Poetry of the English Renaissance 1509-1660.
J. William Hebel and Hoyt H. Hudson, Eds.
New York: F. S. Crofts & Co., 1941. 118.

to Works of Sir Philip Sidney