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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=519466" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Sonnet XIX: On Cupid's Bow</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">On Cupid's bow how are my heartstrings bent, <br>That see my wrack, and yet embrace the same? <br>When most I glory, then I feel most shame: <br>I willing run, yet while I run, repent. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">My best wits still their own disgrace invent: <br>My very ink turns straight to Stella's name; <br>And yet my words, as them my pen doth frame, <br>Avise themselves that they are vainly spent. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">For though she pass all things, yet what is all <br>That unto me, who fare like him that both <br>Looks to the skies and in a ditch doth fall? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh let me prop my mind, yet in his growth, <br>And not in Nature, for best fruits unfit: <br>&quot;Scholar,&quot; saith Love, &quot;bend hitherward your wit.&quot;</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Philip+Sidney">Philip Sidney</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=519466" data-title="Sonnet XIX: On Cupid's Bow de Philip Sidney" data-description="On Cupid's bow how are my heartstrings bent, 
That see my wrack, and yet embrace the same? 
When most I glory, then I feel most shame: 
I willing run, yet while I run, repent. 

My best wits still their own disgrace invent: 
My very ink turns stra..."></div>
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