VII. The scourge of life, and death’s extreme disgrace

Sir Philip Sidney (1554–1586)

These four following Sonnets were made, when his Lady had pain in her face.

[These four sonnets were first printed in Constable’s Diana, 1594.]

THE SCOURGE of life, and death’s extreme disgrace,

The smoke of hell, the monster callèd PAIN;

Long shamed to be accurst in every place,

By them who of his rude resort complain;

Like crafty wretch, by time and travail taught,

His ugly evil in others’ good to hide;

Late harbours in her face, whom Nature wrought

As Treasure House where her best gifts do bide.

And so, by privilege of sacred seat—

A seat where beauty shines, and virtue reigns—

He hopes for some small praise, since she hath great;

Within her beams, wrapping his cruel stains.

Ah, saucy PAIN! Let not thy error last.

More loving eyes she draws, more hate thou hast!