My words I know do well set forth my mind, <br />My mind bemoans his sense of inward smart; <br />Such smart may pity claim of any heart, <br />Her heart, sweet heart, is of no tiger's kind: <br /> <br />And yet she hears, yet I no pity find; <br />But more I cry, less grace she doth impart, <br />Alas, what cause is there so overthwart, <br />That nobleness itself makes thus unkind? <br /> <br />I much do guess, yet find no truth save this: <br />That when the breath of my complaints doth touch <br />Those dainty doors unto the court of bliss, <br /> <br />The heav'nly nature of that place is such, <br />That once come there, the sobs of mine annoys <br />Are metamorphos'd straight to tunes of joys.<br /><br />Sir Philip Sidney<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-44-my-words-i-know-do-well/
