The Dart, The Beams, The Sting, So Strong I Prove

Sir Philip Sidney

The dart, the beams, the sting, so strong I prove,
Which my chief part doth pass through, parch, and tie,
That of the stroke, the heat, and knot of love,
Wounded, inflamed, knit to the death, I die.

Hardened and cold, far from affection’s snare
Was once my mind, my temper, and my life;
While I that sight, desire, and vow forbare,
Which to avoid, quench, lose, nought boasted strife.

Yet will not I grief, ashes, thraldom change
For others’ ease, their fruit, or free estate;
So brave a shot, dear fire, and beauty strange,
Bid me pierce, burn, and bind, long time and late,
And in my wounds, my flames, and bonds, I find
A salve, fresh air, and bright contented mind.

Next 10 Poems

• 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
• Sir Philip Sidney : Thou Blind Man's Mark
• Sir Philip Sidney : To The Sad Moon
• Sir Philip Sidney : To The Tune Of A Neapolitan Villanel
• Sir Philip Sidney : Translation From Horace, Book Ii. Ode X., Beginning 'rectius Vives, Licini,' &c.
• Sir Philip Sidney : Two Pastorals
• Sir Philip Sidney : Verses

Previous 10 Poems

• Sir Philip Sidney : The Bargain
• Sir Philip Sidney : Stanzas To Love
• Sir Philip Sidney : Splendidis Longum Valedico Nugis
• Sir Philip Sidney : Sonnet Xxxix: Come, Sleep!
• Sir Philip Sidney : Sonnet Xxxiii: I Might
• Sir Philip Sidney : Sonnet Xxxi: With How Sad Steps, O Moon
• 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