Sonnet 12: Cupid, Because Thou
Cupid,
because
thou
shin'st
in
Stella's
eyes,
That
from
her
locks,
thy
day-nets,
noe
scapes
free,
That
those
lips
swell,
so
full
of
thee
they
be,
That
her
sweet
breath
makes
oft
thy
flames
to
rise,
That
in
her
breast
thy
pap
well
sugared
lies,
That
he
Grace
gracious
makes
thy
wrongs,
that
she
What
words
so
ere
she
speak
persuades
for
thee,
That
her
clear
voice
lifts
thy
fame
to
the
skies:
Thou
countest
Stella
thine,
like
those
whose
powers
Having
got
up
a
breach
by
fighting
well,
Cry,
"Victory,
this
fair
day
all
is
ours."
Oh
no,
her
heart
is
such
a
citadel,
So
fortified
with
wit,
stored
with
disdain,
That
to
win
it,
is
all
the
skill
and
pain.