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Philip Sidney - Sonnet 70: My Muse May well Grudge
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My Muse may well grudge at my heav`nly joy, 
If still I force her in sad rimes to creep: 
She oft hath drunk my tears, now hopes t`enjoy 
Nectar of mirth, since I Jove`s cup do keep. 

Sonnets be not bound prentice to annoy: 
Trebles sing high, as well as basses deep: 
Grief but Love`s winter livery is, the boy 
Hath cheeks to smile, as well as eyes to weep. 

Come then, my Muse, show thou height of delight 
In well-rais`d notes, my pen the best it may 
Shall paint out joy, though but in black and white.

Cease, eager Muse; peace, pen, for my sake stay; 
I give you here my hand for truth of this: 
Wise silence is best music unto bliss.
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