Love still a boy, and oft a wanton is, <br />School'd only by his mother's tender eye: <br />What wonder then if he his lesson miss, <br />When for so soft a rod dear play he try? <br /> <br />And yet my Star, because a sugar'd kiss <br />In sport I suck'd, while she asleep did lie, <br />Doth low'r, nay chide; nay, threat for only this: <br />Sweet, it was saucy Love, not humble I. <br /> <br />But no 'scuse serves, she makes her wrath appear <br />In Beauty's throne; see now who dares come near <br />Those scarlet judges, threat'ning bloody pain? <br /> <br />Oh heav'nly fool, thy most kiss-worthy face <br />Anger invests with such a lovely grace, <br />That Anger's self I needs must kiss again.<br /><br />Sir Philip Sidney<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-73-love-still-a-boy/
