POEM: SIR PHILIP SIDNEY'S SONNET IN REPLY
A satyr once did run away for dread, With sound of horn which he himself did blow: Fearing and feared, thus from himself he fled, Deeming strange evil in that he did not know.
Evn thus might I99lib.net, for doubts which I conceive Of mine own words, my own good hap betray; And thus might I, for f99lib.netear of may be, leave The sweet pursuit of my desired prey. Better like I thy satyr, dearest Dyer, Who buwww•99lib•netrnt his lips to kiss fair shining fire.
Such causeless fears when coward minds do take, It makes them fly that
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which they fain would have; As this poor beast, who did his rest forsake, Thinking not why, but how, himself to save.