Sonnet 25: The Wisest Scholar
The
wisest
scholar
of
the
wight
most
wise
By
Phoebus'
doom,
with
sugar'd
sentence
says,
That
Virtue,
if
it
once
met
with
our
eyes,
Strange
flames
of
love
it
in
our
souls
would
raise;
But
for
that
man
with
pain
his
truth
descries,
Whiles
he
each
thing
in
sense's
balance
weighs,
And
so
nor
will,
nor
can
behold
those
skies
Which
inward
sun
to
heroic
mind
displays,
Virtue
of
late
with
virtuous
care
to
stir
Love
of
herself,
took
Stella's
shape,
that
she
To
mortal
eyes
might
sweetly
shine
in
her.
It
is
most
true,
for
since
I
her
did
see,
Virtue's
great
beauty
in
that
face
I
prove,
And
find
th'effect,
for
I
do
burn
in
love.
