All Poems
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Astrophel and Stella: 29
© Sir Philip Sidney
Like some weake Lords, neighbord by mighty kings,To keepe themselues and their chiefe cities free,Do easly yeeld, that all their coasts may beReady to store their campes of needfull things:So Stellas heart finding what power Loue brings,To keepe it selfe in life and liberty,Doth willing graunt, that in the frontiers heVse all to helpe his other conquerings:And thus her heart escapes, but thus her eyesSerue him with shot, her lips his heralds arre:Her breasts his tents, legs his triumphall carre:Her flesh his foode, her skin his armour braue,And I, but for because my prospect liesVpon that coast, am giu'n vp for a slaue
Hope And Confidence In God
© The Bible
“Blessed be Jehovah, who daily carries the load for us,
The true God of our salvation.
Selah.
The true God is for us a God of saving acts;
And to Jehovah the Sovereign Lord belong the ways out from death.”—Ps. 68:19, 20.
Astrophel and Stella: 28
© Sir Philip Sidney
You that with allegories curious frame,Of others children changelings vse to make,With me those paines for Gods sake do not takeI list not dig so deepe for brasen fame
God's Mercy
© The Bible
“As a father shows mercy to his sons,
Jehovah has shown mercy to those fearing him.
For he himself well knows the formation of us,
Remembering that we are dust.”—Ps. 103:13, 14.
God's Loving Care For His People
© The Bible
“Because you said: ‘Jehovah is my refuge,’
You have made the Most High himself your dwelling;
Astrophel and Stella: 27
© Sir Philip Sidney
Because I oft in darke abstracted guise,Seeme most alone in greatest companieWith dearth of words, or answers quite awrie,To them that would make speech of speech arise,They deeme, and of their doome the rumour flies,That poyson foule of bubling pride doth lieSo in my swelling breast that onely IFawne on me selfe, and others do despise:Yet pride I thinke doth not my soule possesse,Which lookes too oft in his vnflattring glasse:But one worse fault Ambition I confesse,That makes me oft my best friends ouer-passe,Vnseene, vnheard, while thought to highest placeBends all his powers, euen vnto Stellas grace
Astrophel and Stella: 26
© Sir Philip Sidney
Though dustie wits dare scorne Astrologie,And foole can thinke those Lampes of purest light,Whose numbers weighs greatnesse eternitie,Promising wonders, wonder do invite:To haue for no cause birthright in the skie,But for to spangle the black weedes of night:Or for some brawle, which in that chamber hie,They should still daunce to please a gazers sight
God’s Glory And Majesty
© The Bible
“Long ago you laid the foundations of the earth itself,
And the heavens are the work of your hands.
They themselves will perish, but you yourself will keep standing;
And just like a garment they will all of them wear out.
Just like clothing you will replace them, and they will finish their turn.
But you are the same, and your own years will not be completed.”—Ps. 102:25-27.
Astrophel and Stella: 25
© Sir Philip Sidney
The wisest scholler of the weight most wise,By Phœbus doome, with sugred sentence sayes,That vertue if it once met with our eyes,Strange flames of Loue it in our soules would rayse
Astrophel and Stella: 24
© Sir Philip Sidney
Rich fooles there be, whose base and filthy hartLies hatching still the goods wherein they flow:And damning their owne selues to Tantals smart,Wealth breeding want, more blist, more wretched grow
Astrophel and Stella: 23
© Sir Philip Sidney
The curious wit seeing dull pensiuenesseBewray it selfe in my long setled eyes,Whence those same fumes of melancholy rise,With idle paines, and missing ayme do guesse
Astrophel and Stella: 22
© Sir Philip Sidney
In highest way of heau'n the Sunne did ride,Progressing them from faire twinnes gold'n place:Hauing no scarfe of clowds before his face,But shining foorth of heate in his chiefe pride;When some faire Ladies by hard promise tied,On horse-back met him in his furious race,Yet each prepar'd with fannes wel shading grace,From that foes woundes their tender skinnes to hide
Astrophel and Stella: 21
© Sir Philip Sidney
Your words my friend (right healthfull caustiks) blameMy young mind marde, whom Loue doth windlas so,That mine owne writings like bad servants show,My wits, quick in vaine thoughts, in vertue lame:That Plato I reade for nought, but if he tameSuch coltish yeares, that to my birth I owNobler desires, least else that friendly foe,Great expectation, weare a traine of shame
Astrophel and Stella: 20
© Sir Philip Sidney
Flie, fly, my friends, I haue my death wound; fly,See there that boy, that murthering boy I say,Who like a thiefe, hid in the dark bush doth ly,Till bloudie bullet get him wrongfull pray
