Astrophel And Stella - Sonnet Cviii
Sir Philip Sidney
When Sorrow, using mine own fire's might, Melts down his lead into my boiling breast, Through that dark furnace to my heart oppressed, There shines a joy from thee, my only light: But soon as thought of thee breeds my delight, And my young soul flutters to thee, his nest, Most rude Despair, my daily unbidden guest, Clips straight my wings, straight wraps me in his night, And makes me then bow down my head and say: "Ah, what doth Phoebus' gold that wretch avail Whom iron doors do keep from use of day?" So strangely (alas) thy works in me prevail, That in my woes for thee thou art my joy, And in my joys for thee my only annoy.
Next 10 Poems
- Sir Philip Sidney : Astrophel And Stella Lxxxiv: Highway
- Sir Philip Sidney : Astrophel And Stella Vii: Whennature Made Her Chief Work
- Sir Philip Sidney : Astrophel And Stella: I
- Sir Philip Sidney : Astrophel And Stella: Iii
- Sir Philip Sidney : Astrophel And Stella: Lxiv
- Sir Philip Sidney : Astrophel And Stella: Lxxi
- Sir Philip Sidney : Astrophel And Stella: Xcii
- Sir Philip Sidney : Astrophel And Stella: Xli
- Sir Philip Sidney : Astrophel And Stella: Xv
- Sir Philip Sidney : Astrophel And Stella: Xx
Previous 10 Poems
- Sir Philip Sidney : A Remedy For Love
- Sir Philip Sidney : A Farewell
- Sir Philip Sidney : A Dialogue Between Two Shepherds
- Percy Bysshe Shelley : When The Lamp Is Shattered
- Percy Bysshe Shelley : To Wordsworth
- Percy Bysshe Shelley : To The Moon
- Percy Bysshe Shelley : To The Men Of England
- Percy Bysshe Shelley : To Night
- Percy Bysshe Shelley : To Jane
- Percy Bysshe Shelley : To Coleridge