It is most true, that eyes are form'd to serve <br />The inward light; and that the heavenly part <br />Ought to be king, from whose rules who do swerve, <br />Rebles to Nature, strive for their own smart. <br /> <br />It is most true, what we call Cupid's dart, <br />An image is, which for ourselves we carve: <br />And, fools, adore in temple of hour heart, <br />Till that good God make Church and churchman starve. <br /> <br />True, that ture beauty virtue is indeed, <br />Whereof this beauty can be but a shade, <br />Which elements with mortal mixture breed: <br /> <br />True, that on earth we are but pilgrims made, <br />And should in soul up to our country move: <br />True, and yet true that I must Stella love.<br /><br />Sir Philip Sidney<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-v-it-is-most-true/
