Sonnet 101: Stella Is Sick

Stella is sick, and in that sickbed lies Sweetness, which breathes and pants as oft as she: And Grace, sick too, such fine conclusions tries That Sickness brags itself best grac'd to be. Beauty is sick, but sick in so fair guise That is that paleness Beauty's white we see, And Joy, which is inseparate from those eyes, Stella now learns (strange case) to weep in thee. Love moves thy pain, and like a faithful page, As thy looks stir, runs up and down to make All folks press'd at thy will thy pain t'assuage. Nature with care sweats for her darling's sake, Knowing worlds pass, ere she enough can find Of such heav'n stuff, to clothe so heav'nly mind.