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Astrophel and Stella: III

 Let dainty wits cry on the sisters nine,
That, bravely mask'd, their fancies may be told;
Or, Pindar's apes, flaunt they in phrases fine,
Enam'ling with pied flowers their thoughts of gold.
Or else let them in statelier glory shine, Ennobling newfound tropes with problems old; Or with strange similes enrich each line, Of herbs or beasts which Ind or Afric hold.
For me, in sooth, no Muse but one I know; Phrases and problems from my reach do grow, And strange things cost too dear for my poor sprites.
How then? even thus: in Stella's face I read What love and beauty be; then all my deed But copying is, what in her Nature writes.

by Sir Philip Sidney
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