Sonnet Xxxi: With How Sad Steps, O Moon

Sir Philip Sidney

With how sad steps, O Moon, thou climb'st the skies!
How silently, and with how wan a face!
What, may it be that even in heav'nly place
That busy archer his sharp arrows tries!
Sure, if that long-with love-acquainted eyes
Can judge of love, thou feel'st a lover's case,
I read it in thy looks; thy languish'd grace
To me, that feel the like, thy state descries.
Then, ev'n of fellowship, O Moon, tell me,
Is constant love deem'd there but want of wit?
Are beauties there as proud as here they be?
Do they above love to be lov'd, and yet
Those lovers scorn whom that love doth possess?
Do they call virtue there ungratefulness? 

Next 10 Poems

• Sir Philip Sidney : Sonnet Xxxiii: I Might
• Sir Philip Sidney : Sonnet Xxxix: Come, Sleep!
• Sir Philip Sidney : Splendidis Longum Valedico Nugis
• Sir Philip Sidney : Stanzas To Love
• Sir Philip Sidney : The Bargain
• Sir Philip Sidney : The Dart, The Beams, The Sting, So Strong I Prove
• Sir Philip Sidney : The Highway
• Sir Philip Sidney : The Seven Wonders Of England
• Sir Philip Sidney : The Smokes Of Melancholy
• Sir Philip Sidney : This Lady's Cruelty

Previous 10 Poems

• Sir Philip Sidney : Sonnet Xxx: Whether The Turkish New Moon
• Sir Philip Sidney : Sonnet Xxviii: You That With Allegory's Curious Frame
• Sir Philip Sidney : Sonnet Xxvii: Because I Oft
• Sir Philip Sidney : Sonnet Xxvi: Though Dusty Wits
• Sir Philip Sidney : Sonnet Xxv: The Wisest Scholar
• Sir Philip Sidney : Sonnet Xxix: Like Some Weak Lords
• Sir Philip Sidney : Sonnet Xxiv: Rich Fools There Be
• Sir Philip Sidney : Sonnet Xxiii: The Curious Wits
• Sir Philip Sidney : Sonnet Xxii: In Highest Way Of Heav'n
• Sir Philip Sidney : Sonnet Xxi: Your Words, My Friend