Sir Philip Sidney - Astrophel and Stella: Sonnet XXI (Your words, my friend, (right healthful caustics) blame) lyrics

Your words, my friend, (right healthful caustics) blame My young mind marred, whom love doth windla** so That mine own writings, like bad servants, show My wits quick in vain thoughts, in virtue lame; That Plato I read for nought but if he tame Such coltish years; that to my birth I owe Nobler desires, lest else that friendly foe, Great expectation, wear a train of shame. For since mad March great promise made of me, If now the May of my years much decline, What can be hoped my harvest time will be? Sure, you say well, Your wisdom's golden mine Dig deep with learning's spade. Now tell me this, Hath this world aught so fair as Stella is?