Oh absent presence, Stella is not here; <br />False flattering Hope, that with so fair a face <br />Bare me in hand, that in this orphan place, <br />Stella, I say my Stella, should appear: <br /> <br />What sayest thou now? Where is that dainty cheer <br />Thou toldst mine eyes should help their famish'd case? <br />But thou art gone, now that self felt disgrace <br />Doth make me most to wish my comfort near. <br /> <br />But here I do store of fair ladies meet, <br />Who may with charm of conversation sweet <br />Make in my heavy mold new thought to grow: <br /> <br />Sure they prevail as much with me as he <br />That bade his friend, but then new maim'd, to be <br />Merry with him, and not think of his woe.<br /><br />Sir Philip Sidney<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-106-oh-absent-presence/
