Oh fate, oh fault, oh curse, child of my bliss, <br />What sobs can give words grace my grief to show? <br />What ink is black enough to paint my woe? <br />Through me, wretch me, ev'n Stella vexed is. <br /> <br />Yet Truth (if caitiff's breath may call thee) this <br />Witness with me: that my foul stumbling so <br />From carelessness did in no manner grow, <br />But wit confus'd with too much care did miss. <br /> <br />And do I then myself this vain 'scuse give? <br />I have (live I and know this?) harmed thee; <br />Though worlds quite me, shall I myself forgive? <br /> <br />Only with pains my pains thus eased be, <br />That all thy hurts in my heart's wrack I read; <br />I cry thy sighs, my dear; thy tears I bleed.<br /><br />Sir Philip Sidney<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-93-oh-fate-oh-fault/
