Poems begining by A
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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
Astrophel and Stella: 19
© Sir Philip Sidney
On Cupids bow how are my heart-strings bent,That see my wrack, and yet embrace the same?When most I glorie, then I feele most shame:I willing run, yet while I run, repent
Astrophel and Stella: 18
© Sir Philip Sidney
With what sharp checkes I in my selfe am shent,When into Reasons audite I do go:And by just counts my self a banckrout knowOf all those goods, which heau'n to me haue lent:Vnable quite to pay euen Natures rent,Which vnto it by birth-right I do ow:And which is worse, no good excuse can show,But that my wealth I haue most id'ly spent
Astrophel and Stella: 17
© Sir Philip Sidney
His mother deare Cupid offended late,Because that Mars growne slacker in her loue,With pricking shot he did not througly moue,To keepe the pace of their louing state
Astrophel and Stella: 16
© Sir Philip Sidney
In nature apt to like when I did seeBeauties, which were of manie Carrets fine,My boyling sprits did thither soone inclyne,And, Loue, I thought that I was full of thee:But finding not those restlesse flames in me,Which others said did make their soules to pine:I thought those babes of some pinnes hurt did whine,By my soule judgeing what Loues paines might be
Astrophel and Stella: 15
© Sir Philip Sidney
You that do search for euerie purling spring,Which form the ribs of old Parnassus flowes,And euery flowre not sweet perhaps, which growesNeare there-abouts, into your Poesie wring
Astrophel and Stella: 14
© Sir Philip Sidney
Alas haue I not paine ynough my friend,Vpon whose breast a fiercer Grype doth tire,Then did on him who first stale downe the fire,While Loue on me doth all his quiuer spend,But with your Rubarb words ye must contend,To grieue me worse, in saying that DesireDoth plunge my wel-form'd soule euen in the mireOf sinfull thoughts, which do in ruine end?If that be sinne which doth the maners frame,Well staid with truth in word and faith of deed,Readie of wit and fearing nought but shame:If that be sinne which in fixt hearts doth breedA loathing of all loose vnchastitie,Then Loue is sinne, and let me sinfull be
Astrophel and Stella: 13
© Sir Philip Sidney
Phœbus was Iudge betweene Ioue, Mars, and Loue,Of those three gods, whose armes the fairest were:Ioues golden shield did Eagle sables beare,Whose talents held young Ganymed aboue:But in Vert field Mars bare a golden speare,Which through a bleeding heart his poynt did shoue:Each had his creast, Mars caried Venus gloue,Ioue on his helm the thunders-bolt did reare,Cupid then smiles, for on his crest there liesStellas faire haire, her face he makes his shield,Where roses gueuls are borne in silver field
Astrophel and Stella: 12
© Sir Philip Sidney
Cupid, because thou shin'st in Stellas eyes,That from her lockes, thy daunces none scapes free,That those lips sweld, so full of thee they bee,That her sweete breath makes oft thy flames to ryes,That in her breast thy pap well sugred lies,That her Grace gracious makes thy wrongs, that sheWhat words so ere she speake perswades for thee,That her cleare voyce lifts thy fame to the skies
Astrophel and Stella: 11
© Sir Philip Sidney
In truth, O Loue, with what a boyish kindThou doest proceed in thy most serious waies:That when the heau'n to thee his best displayes,Yet of that best thou leau'st the best behind
Astrophel and Stella: 10
© Sir Philip Sidney
Reason, in faith thou art well seru'd, that stillWouldst brabling be with sense and loue in me:I rather wisht thee clime the Muses hill,Or reach the fruite of Natures choisest tree,Or seeke heau'ns course, or heau'ns inside to see:Why shouldst thou toyle our thornie soile to till?Leaue sense, and those which senses objects be:Deale thou with powers of thoughts, leaue loue to wil
Astrophel and Stella: 9
© Sir Philip Sidney
Queene Vertues court, which some call Stellas face;Prepar'd by Natures choisest furniture,Hath his front built of Alabaster pure;Gold is the couering of that stately place
Astrophel and Stella: 8
© Sir Philip Sidney
Loue borne in Greece, of late fled from his natiue place,Forc'd by a tedious proofe, that Turkish hardned hartIs no fit marke to pierce with his fine pointed dart:And pleasd with our soft peace, staid here his flying race,But finding these North climes do coldly him embrace,Not vsed to frozen clips, he straue to find some part,Wherewith most ease and warmth he might employ his art:At length he perch'd himselfe in Stellas joyfull face,Whose faire skin, beamy eyes like mourning sun on snow,Deceiu'd the quaking boy, who thought from so pure light,Effects of liuely heate, must needs in nature grow
Astrophel and Stella: 7
© Sir Philip Sidney
When Nature made her chiefe worke, Stellas eyes,In colour blacke, why wrapt she beames so bright?Would she in beamie black, like painter wise,Frame daintiest lustre, mixt of shades and light?Or did she else that sober hue deuise,In object best to knit and strength our sight,Least if no vaile these braue gleames did disguise,They sun-like should more dazle then delight?Or would she her miraculous power show,That whereas blacke seemes Beauties contrary,She euen in blacke doth make all beauties flow?Both so and thus, she minding Loue should bePlaced euer there, gaue him this mourning weed,To honour all their deaths, who for her bleed
Astrophel and Stella: 6
© Sir Philip Sidney
Some Louers speake when they their Muses entertaine,Of hopes begot by feare, of wot not what desires:Of force of heau'nly beames, infusing hellish paine:Of liuing deaths, deare wounds, faire stormes and freshing fires
Astrophel and Stella: 5
© Sir Philip Sidney
It is most true, that eyes are form'd to serueThe inward light: and that the heauenly partOught to be king, from whose rules who do swerue,Rebels of Nature striue for their owne smart
Astrophel and Stella: 4
© Sir Philip Sidney
Vertue alas, now let me take some rest,Thou setst a bate betweene my will and wit,If vaine loue haue my simple soule opprest:Leaue what thou likest not, deale not thou with it
Astrophel and Stella: 3
© Sir Philip Sidney
Let daintie wits crie on the Sisters Nine,That brauely maskt, their fancies may be told:Or Pindars Apes, flaunt they in phrases fine,Enam'ling with pied flowers their thoughts of gold:Or else let them in statelie glorie shine,Ennobling new found Tropes with problemes old:Or with strange similies enrich each line,Of hearbes or beastes, which Inde or Afrike hold
Astrophel and Stella: 2
© Sir Philip Sidney
Not at the first sight, nor with a dribbed shotLoue gaue the wound, which while I breath will bleed:But knowne worth did in mine of time proceed,Till by degrees it had full conquest got
