Unhappy sight, and hath she vanish'd by <br />So near, in so good time, so free a place? <br />Dead glass, dost thou thy object so embrace, <br />As what my heart still sees thou canst not spy? <br /> <br />I swear by her I love and lack, that I <br />Was not in fault, who bend thy dazzling race <br />Only unto the heav'n of Stella's face, <br />Counting but dust what in the way did lie. <br /> <br />But cease, mine eyes; your tears do witness well <br />That you, guiltless thereof, your nectar miss'd: <br />Curs'd be the page from whom the bad torch fell. <br /> <br />Curs'd be the night which did your strife resist, <br />Curs'd be the coachman which did drive so fast, <br />With no worse curse than absence makes me taste.<br /><br />Sir Philip Sidney<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-105-unhappy-sight/
