Verse > Anthologies > Elizabethan Sonnets > Astrophel and Stella

Seccombe and Arber, comps.  Elizabethan Sonnets.  1904.
Astrophel and Stella by Sir Philip Sidney (1554–1586)
    Front Matter
I. Loving in truth, and fain in verse my love to show
II. Not at the first sight, nor with a dribbed shot
III. Let dainty wits cry on the Sisters nine
IV. Virtue! alas, now let me take some rest
V. It is most true—that eyes are formed to serve
VI. Some lovers speak, when they their Muses entertain
VII. When Nature made her chief work—Stella’s eyes
VIII. Love born in Greece, of late fled from his native place
IX. Queen Virtue’s Court—which some call Stella’s face
X. Reason! in faith, thou art well served! that still
XI. In Truth, O Love! with what a boyish kind
XII. Cupid! because thou shin’st in Stella’s eyes
XIII. Phoebus was judge between Jove, Mars and Love
XIV. Alas! have I not pain enough? my friend!
XV. You that do search for every purling spring
XVI. In nature apt to like, when I did see
XVII. His mother dear, Cupid offended late
XVIII. With what sharp checks I in myself am shent
XIX. In Cupid’s bow, how are my heart-strings bent!
XX. Fly! fly! my friends; I have my death wound, fly!
XXI. Our words, my friend! (right healthful caustics!) blame
XXII. In highest way of heaven, the sun did ride
XXIII. The curious wits, seeing dull pensiveness
XXIV. Rich fools there be, whose base and filthy heart
XXV. The wisest scholar of the wight most wise
XXVI. Though dusty wits dare scorn astrology
XXVII. Because I oft in dark abstracted guise
XXVIII. You that with allegory’s curious frame
XXIX. Like some weak lords—neighboured by mighty kings
XXX. Whether the Turkish new moon minded be
XXXI. With how sad steps, O Moon! thou climb’st the skies!
XXXII. Morpheus! the lively son of deadly Sleep
XXXIII. I Might—unhappy word, O me!—I might
XXXIV. Come, let me write. “And to what end?” To ease
XXXV. What may words say, or what may words not say
XXXVI. Stella! whence doth this new assault arise?
XXXVII. My mouth doth water, and my breast doth swell
XXXVIII. This night, while sleep begins with heavy wings
XXXIX. Come Sleep! O Sleep! the certain knot of peace!
XL. As good to write, as for to lie and groan
XLI. Having this day, my horse, my hand, my lance
XLII. O Eyes! which do the spheres of beauty move
XLIII. Fair eyes! sweet lips! dear heart! that foolish I
XLIV. My words, I know, do well set forth my mind
XLV. Stella oft sees the very face of woe
XLVI. I curst thee oft, I pity now thy case
XLVII. What! have I thus betrayed my liberty?
XLVIII. Soul’s joy! bend not those morning stars from me!
XLIX. I, on my horse; and Love on me, doth try
L. Stella! the fulness of my thoughts of thee
LI. Pardon mine ears! both I and they do pray
LII. A strife is grown between Virtue and Love
LIII. In martial sports I had my cunning tried
LIV. Because I breathe not love to every one
LV. Muses! I oft invoked your holy aid
LVI. Fie! school of Patience, fie! your lesson is
LVII. Woe, having made with many fights his own
LVIII. Doubt there hath been—when, with his golden chain
LIX. Dear! why make you more of a dog, than me?
LX. When my good angel guides me to the place
LXI. Oft with true sighs, oft with uncallèd tears
LXII. Late tired with woe, even ready for to pine
LXIII. O grammar rules! O now your virtues show!
LXIV. No more! my Dear! no more these counsels try!
LXV. Love! by sure proof I may call thee unkind
LXVI. And do I see some cause a hope to feed?
LXVII. Hope! art thou true, or dost thou flatter me?
LXVIII. Stella! the only planet of my light!
LXIX. O joy! too high for my low style to show
LXX. My Muse may well grudge at my heavenly joy
LXXI. Who will in fairest book of Nature know
LXXII. Desire! though thou my old companion art
LXXIII. Love still a boy, and oft a wanton is
LXXIV. I never drank of Aganippe’s well
LXXV. Of all the Kings that ever here did reign
LXXVI. She comes! and straight therewith her shining twins do move
LXXVII. Those looks! whose beams be joy, whose motion is delight
LXXVIII. O how the pleasant airs of true love be
LXXIX. Sweet kiss! thy sweets I fain would sweetly endite
LXXX. Sweet swelling lip! well mayest thou swell in pride
LXXXI. O kiss! which dost those ruddy gems impart
LXXXII. Nymph of the garden! where all beauties be
LXXXIII. Good brother Philip! I have born you long
LXXXIV. Highway! since you my chief Parnassus be
LXXXV. I see the house! My heart! thyself contain!
LXXXVI. Alas! whence came this change of looks? If I
LXXXVII. When I was forced from Stella ever dear
LXXXVIII. Out! traitor Absence! Darest thou counsel me
LXXXIX. Now that of absence the most irksome night
XC. Stella! think not that I by verse seek fame
XCI. Stella! while now, by honour’s cruel might
XCII. Be your words made, good Sir! of Indian ware
XCIII. O fate! O fault! O curse! child of my bliss!
XCIV. Grief! find the words! For thou hast made my brain
XCV. Yet Sighs! dear Sighs! indeed true friends you are
XCVI. Thought! with good cause thou likest so well the night!
XCVII. Dian, that fain would cheer her friend the Night
XCVIII. Ah, bed! the field where joy’s peace some do see
XCIX. When far-spent night persuades each mortal eye
C. O Tears! no tears but rain from beauty’s skies
CI. Stella is sick, and in that sick bed lies
CII. Where be those roses gone, which sweetened so our eyes?
CIII. O happy Thames! that didst my Stella bare
CIV. Envious wits! what hath been mine offence
CV. Unhappy sight! And hath she vanished by?
CVI. O absent presence! Stella is not here!
CVII. Stella! since thou so right a Princess art
CVIII. When Sorrow, using mine own fire’s might
Other Songs of Variable Verse
    First: Doubt you to whom my Muse these notes intendeth
    Second: Have I caught my heavenly jewel
    Third: If Orpheus’ voice had force to breathe such music’s love
    Fourth: Only joy! now here you are
    Fifth: While favour fed my hope, delight with hope was brought
    Sixth: O you that hear this voice!
    Seventh: Whose senses in so evil consort their stepdame Nature lays
    Eighth: In a grove most rich of shade
    Ninth: Go my flock! go get you hence!
    Tenth: O dear life! when shall it be
    Eleventh: Who is it that this dark night



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