XVI. Like as the dove, which, sealed up, doth fly

Sir Philip Sidney (1554–1586)

LIKE as the dove, which, sealed up, doth fly;

Is neither free, nor yet to service bound:

But hopes to gain some help by mounting high,

Till want of force do force her fall to ground.

Right so my mind, caught by his guiding eye,

And thence cast off, where his sweet hurt he found,

Hath never leave to live, nor doom to die;

Nor held in evil, nor suffered to be sound.

But with his wings of fancies, up he goes

To high conceits, whose fruits are oft but small;

Till wounded, blind and wearied spirit lose

Both force to fly, and knowledge where to fall.

O happy dove, if she no bondage tried!

More happy I, might I in bondage ’bide!