Sonnet 01

 Sidney, in whom the heyday of romance 
Came to its precious and most perfect flower, 
Whether you tourneyed with victorious lance 
Or brought sweet roundelays to Stella's bower, 
I give myself some credit for the way 
I have kept clean of what enslaves and lowers, 
Shunned the ideals of our present day 
And studied those that were esteemed in yours; 
For, turning from the mob that buys Success 
By sacrificing all Life's better part, 
Down the free roads of human happiness 
I frolicked, poor of purse but light of heart, 
And lived in strict devotion all along 
To my three idols -- Love and Arms and Song.

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