LXVII. Hope! art thou true, or dost thou flatter me?

Sir Philip Sidney (1554–1586)

HOPE! art thou true, or dost thou flatter me?

Doth STELLA now begin with piteous eye,

The ruins of her conquest to espy?

Will she take time, before all wrackèd be?

Her eye’s speech is translated thus by thee:

But fail’st thou not in phrase so heavenly high?

Look on again! the fair text better try!

What blushing notes dost thou in margin see?

What sighs stolen out, or killed before full born?

Hast thou found such, and such like arguments?

Or art thou else to comfort me foresworn?

Well! how so thou interpret their contents:

I am resolved thy error to maintain;

Rather than by more truth to get more pain.