LXVI. And do I see some cause a hope to feed?

Sir Philip Sidney (1554–1586)

AND do I see some cause a hope to feed?

Or doth the tedious burden of long woe

In weakened minds, quick apprehending breed

Of every image, which may comfort show?

I cannot brag of word, much less of deed;

Fortune’s wheel’s still with me in one sort slow;

My wealth no more, and no whit less my need:

Desire still on the stilts of fear doth go.

And yet amid all fears, a hope there is

Stolen to my heart, since last fair night (nay, day!)

STELLA’s eyes sent to me the beams of bliss;

Looking on me, while I lookt other way:

But when mine eyes back to their heaven did move;

They fled with blush, which guilty seemed of love.