 | The Complete Works of Sir Philip Sidney |  |
297
The ninth Sonnet.
[Goe my Flocke, goe get you hence]
[1]
Goe my Flocke, goe get you hence,Seeke a better place of feeding,
Where you may have some defence
From the stormes in my breast bleeding,
And showers from mine eyes proceeding.
2
Leave a wretch in whom all woe,Can abide to keepe no measure;
Merrie Flocke, such one forgoe
Unto whom mirth is displeasure,
Onely rich in measures treasure.
3
Yet alas before you goe,Heare your wofull Masters storie,
Which to stones I else would showe;
Sorrow onely then hath glorie,
When tis excellently sorie.
4
Stella, fairest Shepheardesse,Fairest, but yet cruelst ever;
Stella, whom the heavens still blesse,
Though against me she persever,
Though I blisse inherit never.
5
Stella hath refused mee,Stella, who more love hath proved
In this caitiffe hart to bee,
Than can in good to us be moved
Towards Lambkins best beloved,
6
Stella hath refused meeAstrophel that so well served.
In this pleasant Spring (Muse) see,
While in pride flowers be preserved,
Himselfe onely, winter starved.
7
Why (alas) then doth she sweareThat she loveth me so deerly;
Seeing me so long to beare
Coales of love that burne so cleerly:
And yet leave me hopelesse meerly.
298
8
Is that love? forsooth I trow,If I saw my good dogg grieved,
And a helpe for him did know,
My love should not be beleeved,
But he were by me releeved.
9
No, she hates me (welaway)Faining love, somewhat to please me;
Knowing, if she should display
All her hate, death soone would seaze me,
And of hideous torments ease me.
10
Then my deare Flocke now adieu:But alas, if in your straying
Heavenly Stella meete with you
Tell her in your piteous blaying,
Her poore Slaves just decaying.
| The Complete Works of Sir Philip Sidney | |