 | The Complete Works of Sir Philip Sidney |  |
Lalus.
This mayde, thus made for joyes, ô Pan bemone her,
That without love she spends her yeares of love:
So faire a fielde would well become an owner.
And if enchantment can a harde hart move,
Teach me what circle may acquaint her sprite,
Affections charmes in my behalfe to prove.
The circle is my (round about her) sight:
The power I will invoke dwelles in her eyes:
My charme should be, she haunt me day and night.
Dorus.
Farre other care, ô Muse, my sorrow tries,
Bent to such one, in whom, my selfe must say,
Nothing can mend that point that in her lies.
What circle then in so rare force beares swaye?
Whose sprite all sprites can spoile, raise, damne, or save:
No charme holdes her, but well possesse she may;
Possesse she doth, and makes my soule her slave:
My eyes the bandes, my thoughts the fatall knot.
No thralles like them that inward bondage have.
This mayde, thus made for joyes, ô Pan bemone her,
That without love she spends her yeares of love:
So faire a fielde would well become an owner.
130
Teach me what circle may acquaint her sprite,
Affections charmes in my behalfe to prove.
The circle is my (round about her) sight:
The power I will invoke dwelles in her eyes:
My charme should be, she haunt me day and night.
Dorus.
Farre other care, ô Muse, my sorrow tries,
Bent to such one, in whom, my selfe must say,
Nothing can mend that point that in her lies.
What circle then in so rare force beares swaye?
Whose sprite all sprites can spoile, raise, damne, or save:
No charme holdes her, but well possesse she may;
Possesse she doth, and makes my soule her slave:
My eyes the bandes, my thoughts the fatall knot.
No thralles like them that inward bondage have.
| The Complete Works of Sir Philip Sidney | |