Astrophil
and Stella, Sonnet
73
Love still a boy, and
oft a wanton
is,
Schooled only by his mother’s tender eye;
What wonder then if he his lesson miss,
When for so soft a rod dear play he try?
And
yet my star, because
a sugared kiss
In sport I sucked, while she asleep did lie,
Doth lour, nay chide, nay threat, for only this.
Sweet, it was saucy Love, not humble I.
But
no ‘scuse serves, she
makes her wrath appear
In
Beauty’s throne; see now, who
dares come near
Those scarlet judges, threatening bloody pain?
O
heavenly fool, thy most
kiss-worthy face
Anger
invests with such a lovely
grace
That anger’s self I needs must kiss again.