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Sir Philip Sidney

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sidney.jpg Sir Francis Drake, in his Forty-third YearThumbnailsSpur makerSir Francis Drake, in his Forty-third YearThumbnailsSpur makerSir Francis Drake, in his Forty-third YearThumbnailsSpur makerSir Francis Drake, in his Forty-third YearThumbnailsSpur makerSir Francis Drake, in his Forty-third YearThumbnailsSpur makerSir Francis Drake, in his Forty-third YearThumbnailsSpur makerSir Francis Drake, in his Forty-third YearThumbnailsSpur maker

This is no insult to Sir Philip Sidney, but only to the rather exorbitant demands of the form he had chosen. His own sonnets vindicate him as a poet, and some of them, even Hazlitt owned, who did not like him, 'are sweet even to a sense of faintness, luscious as the woodbine, and graceful and luxurious like it.'