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Philip Sidney - Sonnet 56: Fie, School Of Patience
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Fie, school of Patience, fie! your lesson is 
Far, far too long to learn it without book: 
What, a whole week without one piece of look, 
And think I should not your large precepts miss? 

When I might read those letters fair of bliss, 
Which in her face teach virtue, I could brook 
Somewhat thy leaden counsels, which I took 
As of a friend that meant not much amiss: 

But now that I, alas, do want her sight, 
What, dost thou think that I can ever take 
In thy cold stuff a phlegmatic delight? 

No, Patience, if thou wilt my good, then make 
Her come, and hear with patience my desire, 
And then with patience bid me bear my fire.
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