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The Complete Works of Sir Philip Sidney

In Three Volumes
Sidney, Philip (1554-1586)

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Volume I, [Volume II]
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Volume III
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Volume IV
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The First Booke or Acte of the Countess of Pembrookes ARCADIA
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The Second Booke or Acte
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The Thirde Booke or Acte.
  
[O sweete glove the witness of my secrett Blisse]
  
[The Merchaunt Man, whome gayne dothe teache ye Sea]
  
[The Merchaunt man, whome many seas have taughte]
  
[Phaebus Farewell, a sweeter Sainte, I serve]
  
[Synce that the Stormy Rage of passyons darcke]
  
[Hearke playntfull Ghostes, Infernall furyes harcke?]
  
[Lyke those sicke folckes in whome straunge Humors flowe]
  
[Howe ys my Sunne (whose Beames are shyning brighte]
  
[This Cave ys Darcke, but yt had never Lighte]
  
[A Banisshed man longe barrd from his Desyer]
  
[My true Love hathe my harte, and I have his]
  
[O wordes whiche falle like Som̄er Deawe on mee]
  
[Doo not Disdayne O streighte upraysed Pyne?]
  
[Sweete Roote say thow, the Roote of my Desyer?]
  
[Yow goodly Pynes whiche still with brave assent]
  
[Lyke Dyvers Flowers whose dyvers Beutyes serve]
  
[Looke up fayre Liddes, the Treasures of my harte]
  
[Whye doest thow haste away]
  
[O, Stealing tyme, the Subject of Delay]
  
[My Lute within thy self, thy Tunes enclose?]
  
[When Twoo Sunnes doo appeare]
  
[Aurora nowe thow shewest thy blusshing Lighte]
  
[Beuty hathe force to catche the Humane sighte]
  
[Let him drincke this, Whome longe in Armes to folde]
  
[Gett hence fowle greeffe, the Cancker of the mynde]
  
[Vertue Bewty and Speeche, did stryke, wounde, Charme]
  
[The Love whiche ys imprinted in my sowle]
  
[What Toungue can her perfections tell?]
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THE THIRDE EGLOGUES.
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The Fourthe Booke or Acte.
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The Fifte and Last Booke or Acte.
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APPENDIX

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160

[O sweete glove the witness of my secrett Blisse]

O sweete glove the witness of my secrett Blisse,
(Whiche hyding did preserve that beutyes lighte)
That (opened forthe) my sealle of Comfort ys,
Bee thow my Starr in this my Darckest nighte,
Thow that myne eyes theyre Cherefull Sunne dothe misse,
Which Daseling still doste still meyntayne my sighte,
Bee thow Sweete glove, the Anchor of my Mynde,
Till my frayle Barcke his Haven ageane do fynde.
Sweete glove, the sweetest spoyles of the sweetest hand,
Fayre hande, the fayrest pledg of fayrer harte,
True harte, whose truthe dothe yeelde to trusty bande,
Cheef Bande I say wch tyes my cheefest parte,
My Cheefest parte, wherein doo cheefly stande
Those secrett Joyes wch heaven to mee imparte,
Unite in one, my state thus still to save
Yow have my thanckes, Let mee youre Comfort have.
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