Sonnet 101: Stella Is Sick
Stella
is
sick,
and
in
that
sickbed
lies
Sweetness,
which
breathes
and
pants
as
oft
as
she:
And
Grace,
sick
too,
such
fine
conclusions
tries
That
Sickness
brags
itself
best
grac'd
to
be.
Beauty
is
sick,
but
sick
in
so
fair
guise
That
is
that
paleness
Beauty's
white
we
see,
And
Joy,
which
is
inseparate
from
those
eyes,
Stella
now
learns
(strange
case)
to
weep
in
thee.
Love
moves
thy
pain,
and
like
a
faithful
page,
As
thy
looks
stir,
runs
up
and
down
to
make
All
folks
press'd
at
thy
will
thy
pain
t'assuage.
Nature
with
care
sweats
for
her
darling's
sake,
Knowing
worlds
pass,
ere
she
enough
can
find
Of
such
heav'n
stuff,
to
clothe
so
heav'nly
mind.