Loving in truth, and fain in verse my love to show, <br />That She, dear She, might take some pleasure of my pain, <br />—Pleasure might cause her read, reading might make her know, <br />Knowledge might pity win, and pity grace obtain— <br />I sought fit words to paint the blackest face of woe, <br />Studying inventions fine, her wits to entertain, <br />Oft turning others' leaves, to see if thence would flow <br />Some fresh and fruitful showers upon my sunburnt brain. <br />But words came halting forth, wanting Invention's stay; <br />Invention, Nature's child, fled step-dame Study's blows; <br />And others' feet still seemed but strangers in my way. <br />Thus, great with child to speak, and helpless in my throes, <br />Biting my truant pen, beating myself for spite— <br />"Fool!" said my Muse to me "look in thy heart, and write!"<br /><br />Sir Philip Sidney<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/loving-in-truth-and-fain-in-verse-my-love-to-sho/
